


Unplanned

by Frostandstarlight11



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, I'm trash for feysand babies, Pregnancy, Spring Court, Tamlin is still a tool, feysand
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2018-12-07 11:12:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 33,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11622360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frostandstarlight11/pseuds/Frostandstarlight11
Summary: Feyre has returned to the Spring court (after ACOMAF) and is playing a deadly game of deceit while trying to undermine Tamlin's court. But when something unexpected throws a wrench in Feyre's plans, her time in the Spring court becomes a fight to stay safe -- and stay alive.





	1. Misery Loves Company

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my nug (always). This is a rough draft so there are definitely typos - sorry about that! Please be nice; critiques/feedback are welcome!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre is back in the Spring Court, doing her best to evade and undermine Tamlin the Tool

Harsh, bright light assaulted my senses. I squinted my eyes and surveyed the room, still bleary eyed. Rolling over, I reached across the bed, feeling for a familiar male body. His scent hit me at the same time my fingers found his chest. Wrong — that scent was wrong. This wasn't Rhysand, this wasn’t my mate —

Realization hit me like a boulder. No, this was not my High Lord in bed next to me, because I was not in Velaris — I wasn’t even in the Night Court. On the other side of the bed, Tamlin roused and rolled to face me. I pasted a sleepy grin on my face to hide the panic that had marred my feature mere seconds ago.

“Did you sleep alright?” Tamlin asked me.

“Fine,” I said, and fought a cringe as he scooted closer to me and stroked my arm. That touch — so possessive, as if I were hit pet. It was all I could do to keep from growing talons and scratching his eyes out.

Ever since my return to the spring court, Tamlin had insisted he sleep in my bedroom. Though he tried to hide it, it was obvious he was terrified that Rhys might come and snatch me away at any minute. If he were being honest, we both knew that even with Tamlin in bed beside me, he could do nothing to stop Rhys should he decide to come and retrieve me, though I wasn’t about to tell him that. But in recent nights, Tamlin had been making advances at me in an attempt to work his way closer to intimacy. As if sex would help fix what had broken between us. As if intimacy could heal the scars that ran so deep they were practically tangible things, covered in gnarled scar tissue that I had grown as my mate had helped to heal me, as I had healed myself. Tamlin had always thought that sex would keep us together, keep us whole an functioning, from the moment we had returned from Amarantha’s court Under the Mountain. And I had fallen for it — I had believed that all a relationship needed to survive was a sexual connection. But loving Rhysand had tought me that a healthy, loving relationship was so much more than that — that it benefitted both partners in so many more ways that just intimacy could achieve.

In the weeks I had been here, I had managed to stave off Tamlin’s attempts at intimacy by claiming that I was still too traumatized by what had happened to me at the Night Court, by saying I didn’t know how time much I would need to heal, but I worried for how much longer I could continue using that excuse before arousing suspicion.

I slid off the bed, shrugging on a robe and slippers as I made my way to the bathing room. I mumbled something to Tamlin about taking a bath, praying that he would be gone when I returned if I spent long enough in the tub. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep up this game of lying and deceit before I broke down. I abhorred being separated from my home, my family, my mate. I knew each day I was gone was torture for Rhys too. Having his mate in his enemy’s home weighed heavily on him. As I ran the water for my bath, I stroked a gentle caress down the bond between us, letting him know I was alive, and safe, and unharmed. I shed my clothes as I sank down into the steaming tub. As I soaked in the warm water, I thought of Rhys, and Mor, and Cassian and Azriel and Amren. I though of my sisters, Nesta and Elain. I though ofVelaris, my home. And I fought the the longing to be with those people that clawed at my insides.


	2. Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhysand and the inner circle have trouble dealing with life without Feyre

Rhysand

Sleeping alone was impossible. She had been gone for nearly a month, and without Feyre in bed next to me, the nightmares that had plagued me after Amarantha had come back in full force. The lack of sleep and the anxiety of separation were taking their toll on me. My skin was sallow and there were purple bruises under my eyes. As I stumbled to the bathing room, I caught my reflection in the mirror. I looked haggard — my hair was disheveled, my violet eyes were dull, empty. Empty like I was, every second I was apart from my mate. She was this beautiful, vibrant, amazing thing that had been taken from my life twice now. I understood and respected that she was her own person, and she made her own choices, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt like hell when she had decided to leave me. And the fact that she had done so because she thought she wasn’t necessary, that she believed she was not vital to our court, was like a knife to the gut. Her absence was like a physical pain, and missing her would never get easier. _It’s not forever_ , I reminded myself. _Not like last time._ Indeed, this was nothing like last time, when she had been taken in the most permanent way — been taken by death. When Amarantha had snapped her neck. I could still hear the sound of it echoing in my head.

I pulled myself out of the painful memory long enough to pull on my fighting leathers and trudge up to the roof. Since I was staying alone in the Townhouse, I was to meet the others at the House of Wind. As I shot into the sky, I let my thoughts drag me down again. Not even flying was the same without Feyre. I could feel the phantom weight of her pressed against my chest even with her absent from my arms.

Several minutes later, I alighted atop the roof of the House of Wind and descended the dark stairwell to the war room where we were to meet. I walked in to find everyone already waiting for me. Azriel was sitting in a dark corner, face wreathed in shadows, with Mor in a chair beside him. “You look like shit,” she said to me, and I glared at her. Amren was sitting on the opposite side of the room, cleaning her nails with a tiny bone. She didn’t so much as look at me. She had barely been speaking to me since Feyre had returned to the Spring Court.

The only one absent from our meeting was Cassian. His wings were still healing from our trip to Hybern, and he hadn’t left his bedroom in days. No one knew whether or not his wings would heal fully, or if he’d be able to fly again. Isolation and injury had made him bitter, and he had thrown us all out so many times that only Mor bothered to visit him anymore, and even she did so sparingly.

A heavy silence had settled over the room. After several seconds Amren’s voice cut through the quiet like the sharpest blade. “Do you think,” she sniped, quicksilver eyes churning like a brooding storm, “that moping around the Townhouse all day of going to help us prepare for war? Will it help bring our High Lady back? Will it accomplish anything at all, Rhysand?” she hissed, her words laced with quiet venom. I choked back my retort and said simply, “I’m doing what I can to get her back, Amren. We all are.” Her answering glare was nothing short of feral.

I knew Feyre’s absence was weighing heavily on us all. Feyre and Amren had formed a tenuous friendship in the weeks leading up to our trip to Hybern, and I knew she despised me now for allowing Feyre to put herself in jeopardy for all of us.

“What, exactly, would that be?” Mor cut in. “How do you plan to move things along more swiftly? How do you plan to retrieve Feyre? And when, Rhys? We’re all sick of waiting. We need answers — a timeline at least.” Her eyes beseeched me, searching for answers I didn’t have. She knew as well as I did that what Feyre needed most right now was time — time to spy on Hybern, time to earn Tamlin’s trust in order to lead him in the wrong direction. All we could do in the meantime was ready our troops for battle and help to buy her that time she so desperately needed.

“Mor, you and I both know we can’t put a timeline on this. We’re doing everything we can; we’re tracking Hybern’s and the mortal’s movements, were readying our own troops, were strengthening alliances with the other courts, but there is only so much we can do. You of all people should know that.” I looked up to see hurt flashing in her eyes at the dismissal, even though it was the best I could offer her. “Feyre will be home soon,” I finished quietly, and with that, the room descended back into silence.


	3. Dangerous territory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre discovers something that will put her in grave danger

Feyre

I sat at the breakfast table, picking at the bland meal that had been laid out in front of me. Tamlin and Lucien had been arguing about the same thing for the past fifteen minutes, and I had long since lost interest once I gleaned that I had nothing to gain from paying attention to their conversation.

“You plan to just let her back into our home, to let her near Feyre, even after her betrayal?” Lucien quipped at Tamlin, his meal all but forgotten.

“I have spoken with her extensively on this matter, Lucien. She promises she harbored no ill intent, and she never meant for anyone to get hurt.” I snorted at that, then covered it up with a cough. “You need to stop pushing back on this one — she is an essential part of our court and has become vital to holding our peoples’ support.” Tamlin replied in a sharp tone that meant he was nearing the end of his patience.

“How about,” I cut in, saccharine sweet, just to stop the incessant drone of their voices, “Me and Ianthe set up a meeting on neutral ground. We can discuss what’s happened and I can decide from there if I feel she is truly to be forgiven and if we can trust her again.” I looked to Tamlin at that, knowing I had put him between a rock and a hard place. While he wanted to bring Ianthe back into our court, even after her betrayal to Hybern, he wanted to do it on his terms, and allowing me to make the decision meant surrendering some of his authority, something he would not willingly do. But when I returned he had promise to include me, to give me my fair say, and that meant to he had to cave to me on some things. This was one area in which he really could not deny me, as Ianthe’s betrayal had been a direct affront to me and my family. I was forcing Tamlin to slide some of his decision making power to me.

He seemed to pause to consider for a moment, and then answered, “That would appear to be the best solution to our problem,” he said, looking for all the world as if he did not believe what he was saying one bit. “But I think it would be a better idea to hold the meeting here, to establish that we are willing to let her back into our court if she shows true penance and regret.” He added this last part a little more forcefully than necessary, establishing his dominance on the subject and saying it with such finality that we all knew the subject was settled.

“If you think that is the best idea, then I’m inclined to agree,” I said, settling the matter once and for all. I opened my mouth to add something else, but my brain was voided of all thoughts as I was suddenly overtaken by a violent wave of nausea. I did my best to hide it from Tamlin, and he was already so enthralled in discussing some other point with Lucien that he didn’t seem to notice. But from the corner of my eyes I saw Lucien’s gaze find my tense, rigid figure and saw his brows furrow just slightly, enough to alert me to the fact that he noticed something was wrong. When finally the nausea subsided enough for me to speak again, I pushed back from the table and said demurely, “If you two don’t mind, I need to excuse myself for the afternoon. I’ll see you again tonight at the party,” I said this last part with a suggestive look at Tamlin, curving my lips into a sweet smile and softening my features to look more lovestruck.

“Of course, darling,” Tamlin replied. “I’ll see you this evening.” With that, I floated from the room on soft, slippered feet. I barely made it to the top of the stair and out of sight before I was forced to stop and doubled over, another wave of crippling nausea rocking through me. I shuffled the rest of the way to my room as fast as I could, and was barely able to hold on long enough to make it to the toilet before I emptied the contents of my stomach, my body rejecting everything I had consumed in the past twelve hours. I sat on the floor, clutching the toilet as wave after wave of nausea overtook me, until at last I was able to move away from the toilet and to the sink. I stood in front of the mirror and rinsed out my mouth, considering all possibilities.

The most likely option was that someone had poisoned me. But if that were the case, I would have felt more severe symptoms, and most likely would not still be alive. I had been thoroughly but discreetly monitoring my food for all signs of foul play since I had returned to the Spring court, and had noticed nothing amiss in the past few weeks. I quickly discarded that idea. The next possibility was that I was simply coming down with the flu or some other nasty ailment. But again, if I was, I would surely have noticed some other symptoms by now — fever, exhaustion, achy-ness, _something_ other than just nausea by itself. I ran through all the other variables in my head, the stopped cold as a thought occurred to me. I began counting the days backward in my head, thinking through the last time I had had my monthly bleeding.

I was nearly a month and a half late.

With everything that had been going on, I had completely forgotten. But this couldn’t be possible, I thought to myself. I had taken a tonic to negate what Rhys and I had done in the cabin. Maybe this nausea was just a reaction to the current stress being put on my body, the anxiety of being away from home. But I knew in my heart that that wasn’t the truth. Because Rhys and I had been intimate after those days in the cabin, and with everything that had been happening, I could now clearly remember missing a dose of my tonic.

There were other symptoms, too, that I had brushed aside as nothing out of the ordinary, maybe out of denial more than anything. My breasts were sore and aching. My ankles and feet were swollen. My moods had been unreliable, changing at the drop of a hat. And now I was inexplicably nauseous, and my cycle was a full six weeks late. There was one plausible explanation.

Could I be pregnant? There was no way to know for sure without contacting a healer, and that would draw far too much attention, especially because Tamlin had me so heavily monitored. A thought occurred to me just then that could confirm my suspicions. If I was able to throw out awareness around myself to sense for people with my powers, was it possible I could do the same thing, looking internally? The idea gave me pause, but it was worth a shot, and it seemed like the only way I could really be certain.

Taking a deep breath, I focused on the darkness beating within me — the darkness my mate had given to me. It wasn’t a fearsome or frightening thing, but a soothing swirl of black mist that lived at my innermost core. I reached into myself, pulling out a tendril, and focused it on my body, trying to detect anything amiss. At first, there was nothing. And then, all of a sudden, I could feel it. A tiny heartbeat in my abdomen. The sound was ringing in my ears, the only thing I could hear, and I knew what it meant. When I looked down, I gasped. My stomach was being illuminated as if with some inner light, a soft glow that seeped through the fabric of my dress. As I released that tendril of power back into my burning core, the glow faded, mercifully.

I dropped my head into my hands and took a heaving breath, trying to steady myself. If I was a month and a half late, then I was likely just over two months pregnant. That meant that I had maybe a month, give or take, until I could no longer conceal the evidence. If Tamlin or any of the others noticed that my scent had changed, I could just attribute it to my supposedly broken mating bond with Rhysand, or to my monthly cycle. If I had one month until I started showing, that was one more month I had to accomplish my goals and get out of here, one more month before I was placing my child’s life in mortal danger. I almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of that thought. I was already placing my child’s life in danger.

I couldn’t tell Rhysand. My mission here was imperative to our success in this war, and the second he knew, there was no way he would be content to sit idle in the Night Court while me and our child were sitting ducks in his enemy’s territory. He would insist I come home. And I couldn’t let that happen — not yet.

Cauldron, I was going to be a mother, Rhysand a father. We were going to be parents. The thought filled me with fear, but also joy. This child was a seed of hope in a bitter, angry world. This child was mine. Ours.

A knock on my door pulled me from my thoughts. I righted myself, tucking a few stray hairs behind my ears and straightening my gauzy pink gown. As I smoothed down the skirts, I checked my reflection once in the mirror to make sure I looked fine before assuming a mask of calm, as Rhysand so often did, and making my way to the door.

It opened to reveal Lucien in the hallway, leaning against my door frame in such a casual manner that I knew this encounter would be anything but.

“Hello Feyre,” he said cooly, as if trying not to betray any emotions.

“Lucien,” I replied curtly. When he failed to respond, I asked him, “Is there something you needed?” He seemed to recoil a bit at my tone, straightening himself from where he was leaning against the threshold.

“I just wanted to check in and make sure you were all right. You seemed off at breakfast,” he pressed carefully.

“I’m quite alright,” I answered quickly. I needed to dispel any undue curiosity before he started pushing too deep. “Just tired. I haven’t been sleeping well since I returned home.” I almost choked on the last word but managed to restrain myself. He eyed me warily, as if he didn’t quite believe me, but I knew he wouldn’t push the point. Since returning here, everyone thought me so delicate after the so called horrors I had endured in the Night Court that they treated me as though I were made of glass. Even if Lucien was less easily fooled than the others, even if he was much more skeptical of my story, he still had to pretend as though he believed nothing was wrong. If he said the wrong thing, accused me of working as a spy for Rhysand, he would not only infuriate Tamlin, he would most likely lose his only chance to ever see his mate, my sister Elain, again. If I was forced to flee, he would lose all connection to the Night Court, and by proxy, all connection to Elain.

When I could see that he had accepted my story as truth, he replied simply, “If there is truly nothing amiss, then I will leave you be. I should be on my way anyhow. I have matters to attend to.” With that he gave me a curt nod, spun on his heal, and disappeared back into the hallway.

As soon as he was gone, I closed the door and collapsed onto the bed. Lucien was another figure I had not factored into all of this. If I were to keep from arousing suspicion not only about my real reasons for being here, but also about my pregnancy, I would have to be careful around him.

Pregnancy. The word clanged through me as I thought it, and I dropped my head into my hands. Cauldron boil me, what on Earth had I gotten myself into? How was I going to figure my way out of this mess? Rhysand had told me he was terrified at the thought of me being pregnant during a war, and now, with me in enemy territory, it appeared his greatest fears were being realized. How could I have been so careless? How could I have let this happen?

I let my head sag to the pillows, dropping a shield into place around my room before folding in on myself and sobbing violently. I shook with the force of my crying. There was nothing else I could think to do. I knew I wanted this baby, and I was sure Rhysand would too, but that didn’t help my current situation. I let my thoughts swirl around and around in my head as I lay on my bed and cried.


	4. Headache and Heartache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre struggles to try and deal with the news she has just discovered without revealing anything to Rhysand - or worse - Tamlin.

Some hours later I woke with a pounding headache. I couldn’t remember falling asleep. I dragged myself to the bathroom, and one look in the mirror confirmed my suspicion that my face was puffy and swollen from crying. As much as I desperately wanted to, I could not just crawl back into bed and curl up. Tamlin was having a party tonight in celebration of the Summer Solstice, and as the High Lord’s play-thing, I was expected to attend. With war approaching it was hardly the time to be wasting funds on extravagances like the gaudy, enormous parties Tamlin threw, but he was never one for logic, it seemed. Now that he had sold out his entire court to gain an alliance with Hybern and to get me back, he seemed to think he was safe, that he was untouchable. Little did he know how wrong he was.

I splashed cold water on my face, then touched up the rouge on my cheeks and lips that I often wore to make myself look more innocent, like a spring rose bud. I walked into my enormous closet full of disgustingly innocent dresses and selected one for this evening that I knew Tamlin would appreciate. It was light blue chiffon that was fitted through the bodice and fell in waves past my waist. The sweetheart neckline was accompanied by small, capped sleeves, and the bodice was studded with tiny clear jewels in swirling, intricate patterns. The rhinestones on the dress gave me pause; they reminded me of another jeweled dress, in another court, from a different time. Although these small jewels were nothing compared to the ones on the dress Rhysand had given me for Starfall, they still sent a pang of longing through my core.

I pulled on the dress and a pair of completely impractical silk slippers, took one last look in the mirror to make sure I was presentable, then exited my room.

The Summer Solstice party was held in the temperate, rolling green hills behind the manor, and as I arrived I could see that the field was already full of party-goers. Streams of bright, cheery music wove through air, and some people swayed on their feet to it. Long tables were laden with food and desserts and glasses of sparkling faery wine. Wine — right. I couldn’t drink any. Thinking it might look suspicious if I wasn’t imbibing like all the other guests, I grabbed a crystal glass of water and glamoured it to look like it was filled with bubbly wine. Then I went to greet and socialize with the many occupants of Tamlin’s lands.


	5. Fireproof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre is still struggling to cope while navigating Tamlin's Summer Solstice party.

After several hours of greeting guests, chittering with socialites, and pretending to have a good time, my mood had turned sour. My feet were aching in these thin soled slippers, and I had long since grown weary of making idle small talk. As I excused myself from a group of nobles under the guise of refreshing my drink, I turned around and nearly ran into Lucien.

“Feyre —,” he began, but paused when a puzzled look crossed his face. He looked at my water glass, his metal eye whirring, and looked at me quizzically. “Why are you glamouring your water glass?” Lucien asked tentatively.

I froze, scrambling to come up with a good lie. “I wasn’t feeling all that well. My head has already started pounding, and I just wanted to look like I was still having a good time, so I glamoured my water to make it look like I was still drinking wine,” I tried lamely. I knew it was a poor lie, so I quickly asked him another question to distract from my falsehood. “How is you can see through glamours anyway?” I asked, suddenly fearful that he could see the tattoo on my right hand the marked me as High Lady of the Night Court.

“My metal eye,” he said as he gestured to the golden orb in his eye socket, “is made from a blend of magic and mechanics. It can do some things that regular eyes can’t, like see through glamours. But because it is part magic, it can still be tricked by magic, like ordinary eyes. So I can see through a weak, temporary glamour like the one you’ve thrown over your water glass, but I can’t see through strong, permanent ones like the one Tamlin wears most of the time.”

I practically heaved a sigh of relief at that, confident that he could still not see the tattoo on my hand. I was just about to say something to him about how interesting the mechanics of his eye were, when strands of my hair tickling my face alerted me to a changing wind. It was blowing directly toward Lucien, which gave me pause.

I watched as he noticed it too, inhaling deeply perhaps to breathe in the summery perfume dancing on the air, and then he froze. For the blink of an eye his eyes went wide with what appeared to be shock. Just as soon as it happened, his face was back to the calm, placid happiness of one enjoying a wonderful party.

“Feyre darling,” Lucien began all too casually. “Would you mind accompanying me back to the house for a moment? I believe Tamlin wanted me to check in with the kitchen staff to make sure there would be enough food to last us, and I would love some company.” His use of Rhysand’s pet name for me gave me pause. He couldn’t possibly know that was what my mate called me, could he? It must just be a coincidence. But something was not right here.

“Of course,” I answered, careful not to let my guard down. Some buried instinct had me checking that my mental shields were up, even though I knew there was no way that Lucien could see into my mind. I was just being paranoid. He couldn’t know that I was pregnant, could he?

When we had crested several rolling hills and were out of sight of the party, Lucien suddenly grabbed my hand and pulled me aside into a garden, using a tall hedge to shelter us from view of passerby. My muscles instantly tensed, readying for a fight.

“Why do you smell like that,” Lucien asked roughly.

“Smell like what?” I asked indignantly, feigning surprise at the fact that he would ask such a question.

“Like your pregnant,” He growled.

“I’m obviously not pregnant, Lucien. Its just that time of my cycle. How would you even know what that smells like, anyways?” I countered, trying to look embarrassed by his prying questions.

“I lived in the countryside back in the autumn court before I came here. I’vebeen around pregnant females before. I know what it smells like. And I know that you are definitely pregnant. I smelled the vomit on you earlier, when I came to your room. Why haven’t you told Tamlin yet?” He cast me a hard look, as if daring me to say it. I could no longer feign that I hadn’t known; my charade with the water glass had cost me that option. But I could still pretend that it wasn’t Rhysand’s.

“I just…” I hung on the words, forcing a wobble into my voice and tears to spring to my eyes. “I wasn’t sure yet. And I didn’t even know if Tamlin would _want_ children. Cauldron, I don’t even know if _I_ want children. With the war and everything that’s happened… I’m scared, Lucien.” The last part wasn’t a lie.

He seemed to pause as if considering what I was saying, and I made a move to push past him. Quick as an asp, his hand shot out and grabbed mine. In my shock at the fact that he would get so close to me, that he would be so aggressive, I let my glamour slip for a fraction of a second. My hand flashed black with whorls of ink, and then, in the blink of an eye, it was smooth, unmarred flesh again. But I knew that Lucien had seen it.

“What was that,” he asked, his voice dangerously calm. A predatory glint had entered his eyes. When I didn’t say anything, he said, “Cut the bullshit, Feyre. I know what those symbols signify. I’ve seen the Illyrians tattoos before. You’re not really here because you love Tamlin, are you. Cauldon, it’s not even his child, is it!” He practically bellowed, eyes brimming with rage.

“Keep your voice down!” I hissed at him. “You and I both know that Tamlin sold out his entire court to Hybern just to get me back. You watched my sisters get turned; he let it happen! Didn’t do a damn thing to stop it. So maybe I lied. Maybe I don’t love him anymore, but unless you’re inside my head, you can’t know that for sure. But Rhysand has my sisters. So I suggest, if you would ever like to see your mate again, that you keep what you have learned here tonight to yourself.” I held his gaze as I finished, daring him to contradict me. He glared right back, but after a moment, he gave me a curt nod, spun on his heal, and stalked off back in the direction of the party.

I had just landed myself in a world of trouble. I was balancing on a knife’s edge, and that knife was now being held over a fire. I would have to be so, so careful.

It was a good thing I didn’t burn easily.


	6. An Unexpected Ally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre has some trouble, and finds help in expected places.

Three Weeks Later

Progress had been swift over the last three weeks. Gathering intel on Hybern’s movements had been all too easy now that Tamlin had promised to include me in the dealings of his court, and I had nearly gathered all the information I needed. Since Ianthe had returned and was trying to portray the most regretful and pious player on the board, undermining her had been one of my top priorities. It was clear she was making a move at Tamlin, and I had done a good job of distancing myself from him, making them appear to be a power duo. What they didn’t know was that I had also earned the loyalty and respect of the guards, and that their opinions carried significant influence among Tamlin’s people. Tamlin’s alliance with Hybern had lost him support from his people. Once I slid the last few pins into place, making Ianthe out to be the villain and making it clear where Tamlin’s loyalties lay, his court would disintegrate and there would be nothing he could do to stop it.

Lucien had been another problem altogether. I could tell that he was at war with himself. He desperately wanted to tell Tamlin, but with his mate on the line, he wasn’t willing to risk it. I could see that every day was pushing him further, and soon enough he was going to break and say something. My time here was running out.

I was having issues of my own as well. Aside from my nausea, I also had to pee every twenty minutes and my dresses were starting to get snug. With the weight I had gained back during my time in the Night Court, Alis had been forced to buy a whole host of new dresses, as my old ones no longer fit. She was now making a point of not making comments when she had to let out these new gowns even further as my breasts and hips continued to grow.

Keeping this momentous of a secret from Rhysand had been a challenge, and it weighed heavily on me. But I knew that telling him wouldn’t change anything except that it would drive him out of his mind, so I continued to keep it to myself. _Soon_ , I promised myself. _I’ll tell him soon, and then I’ll get out of this wretched place._ I repeated it to myself in my head, over and over, as I walked down a corridor of the manor. I was to meet Tamlin, Ianthe, and Lucien in the gardens for lunch. As I emerged from the doors and into the sunny day beyond, I saw Tamlin and Lucien waiting for me at the base of the sprawling staircase leasing up to the front doors. As soon as Tamlin saw me, he looked up and smiled, extending a hand to me. I smiled back and started down the steps, when suddenly an intense cramp in my abdomen had me pausing. A look of concern crossed over Tamlin’s face as I halted mid-step. I made an attempt to shake it off, but another one hit me full force a second later and I doubled over. Tamlin and Lucien were immediately at my side.

I took in a shaky breath, clutching my stomach. Something was wrong, something was wrong, something was —

“Are you alright, my love?” Tamlin asked, genuine concern and worry passing over his features. I straightened myself up as best I could.

“Yes, I’m fine it’s just… Well, its a bit embarrassing, but my cycle came early this month and…” I trailed off, letting him fill in the rest.

“Oh — Oh,” He said as realization dawned. “Do you need me to get a healer?”

“No, I think I’ll be alright, but I don’t think I’m up for lunch anymore. I really just need to lay down. Would it be okay if I excused myself?” I asked, desperate to get away and figure out what was wrong.

“Of course, love. Just send for anything you need. I’ll stop by later to check on you. Feel better,” he said, then leaned in and kissed my brow. 

I fought the urge to shudder and smiled at him, and was about to turn away when Lucien interjected, “I can escort Feyre back to her rooms, Tamlin, if you would like to go on and meet Ianthe. I can be out to join you two in a few minutes.”

I was about to say no, to tell him I was fine without an escort, but if Lucien truly had spent time around pregnant females, he may know what this was. I had to trust that he cared about me enough to put my safety above his desire to tell Tamlin. “I would greatly appreciate that, Lucien,” I said, as Tamlin nodded his assent. Lucien took my arm and guided my into the mansion. Neither one of us said word until we were back in my room and I had dropped a shield in place around it. My abdomen continued cramping and I sat on my bed, drawing my knees up to my chin in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

“Is everything all right?” Lucien asked me. The absurdity of his question made me want to laugh. No, everything was most certainly not alright. I was pregnant, in my enemy’s house, my mate on the other side of the territory, in the middle of a war.

“My abdomen is cramping,” I asked, uncertain how he would respond.

“Feyre…” He trailed off, clearly uncertain if helping me would be considered a betrayal to Tamlin. He seemed to make up his mind and he straightened, the resolve on his face hardening. “I have some experience treating pregnant females. I can asses your condition and determine the best course of action.”

I was shocked at his response. I thought certainly he would have been content to let me and my child suffer. But Lucien was a good male. He was loyal to Tamlin, but that loyalty only extended so far, and it was not in his nature to let people suffer when he had the ability to help. “You would help me?” I asked cautiously.

“Make no mistake, Feyre, I am not helping you in whatever it is you’re trying to do here. But I will not have the loss of your child weighing on my conscience if there was something I could have done to help. Now lay back so I can examine you. How far along are you?”

Doing as he asked, I laid back on the pillows pushed against my headboard. “Almost two months,” I said as he palpated my abdomen tenderly. When he had finished that, he asked me several other questions. 

My answers seemed to confirm his suspicions, and he nodded his head slightly as he told me, “This is not unusual of a pregnancy at this stage. Some females experience cramping and some minor bleeding, so don’t be alarmed if you experience that as well. I would recommend that you stay in bed at least for the rest of the day, if not tomorrow as well. I can send Alis in if you need.” I shook my head at that last part. I didn’t need anyone else seeing my like this and possibly determining my condition. He seemed about finished and turned on his heel, making for the door, but he paused at the threshold. “Feyre, you and I both know you won’t be able to keep this up much longer without arousing suspicion. You need to get whatever it is you came for and leave as soon as possible. And when you go, I want you to take me with you. I want to see my mate.”

His words shocked me. I had not been expecting him to want to come with me, and I was about to say no. But she was his mate, and he deserved a chance to at least meet her, get to know her. And I couldn’t deny the fact that he could be a valuable asset in this war, what with his knowledge of Tamlin' and Berron’s lands and courts, as well as his training in combat. “I will take you with me, on the condition that you cannot return here once you leave. If you do attempt to, I will be force to kill you. I can’t have you spreading information about my court or my family to those who should not have it.”

He smiled ruefully. “The Spring Court was never really home anyways. Maybe a fresh start is what I need,” he said, and exited to room.


	7. No News is Good News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhysand discovers what Feyre has been hiding from him.

Rhysand

The reality of walking through the doors to the House of Wind was harder than I had expected. Everything I did felt wrong, like I was missing some vital piece of me, and doing this alone, facing the rest of my family without her when I knew they were all still furious with me, felt impossible. I felt it, beneath the everyday fear and worry — the panic. Panic that rang deep and true, that struck a chord of horror buried so deep within me I hadn’t even realized it existed. As I walked across the floor towards the dining room table, I couldn’t bring myself to meet my family’s eyes. Without looking up I knew that Mor, Amren, Azriel, and Cassian were already there. With Cassian’s wings finally healed enough to be mobile, he was able to join us for dinner and would hopefully be able to take to the skies again soon.

I approached the table cautiously, and was about to take my seat when a sound inside my mind jarred me out of my stupor. That sound, that voice — I craved it, needed it more than I needed air. I felt the bridge between me and my mate go taught and then Feyre’s voice filled the space inside my head. 

_Oh god,_ I heard her thinking. _Oh god what have I done? Something is wrong, something is wrong with my baby, something is wrong, something is…_

Baby. The word clanged through me. I reached out to her end of the bridge to find her solid, glittering ebony shield still held firmly in place. She must not have even meant for me to hear what I had heard — sometimes she inadvertently shouted things across the bond, without even realizing she had done it. 

_They can’t know, they can’t know that I’m pregnant. I can’t let them find out._

I froze. Blinked. Was utterly unaware of everything around me except the words echoing inside my head. _Pregnant._ Somewhere in the distance I heard the crack of my knees connecting with the floor, but the sensation was lost. The world around me had faded away, narrowing to that one word that I could not stop hearing: _Baby._

How long had she been pregnant and kept it from me? How long had she known? It was unthinkable. I simply could not wrap my brain around the idea that she and I were going to have a child together. We had discussed this, discussed that we were going to wait. Feyre was taking a tonic. This simply was not possible. The instinct to protect my mate and my child, to get her out of my enemy’s house, was a driving need pulsing in my very core. I was vaguely aware of hands on my arms, my face. Somebody was shouting at me, and then I felt a stinging across my face like I had been slapped.

My head snapped up to meet Azriel’s cold, blue eyes. The world around us was swirling black, winds whipping my hair and searing my eyes as tendrils of night radiated from my body. I was instantly aware of what I had done and I called it back, vacating the room of my darkness.

“What the hell was that?” Cassian shouted from across the room. I could see the table had been flipped, furniture was destroyed, and the meal that had been awaiting us was now splattered on the walls and ceiling. I met Azriel’s eyes again and didn’t even try to conceal the panic I held in my own gaze. And then I turned from the room and ran.


	8. Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Told from Mor's point of view, Rhysand has trouble dealing with what he has just learned and the implications it will have for him. Tender Rhys/Mor moments.

Morrigan

The room was dark — pitch black. Not even the moon shone in from outside. It was as if the world inside the townhouse had been voided of all light. I stepped cautiously over the threshold and into the living room, navigating the room by memory.

“Rhys?” I called cautiously into the dark. “Are you there?” For a long moment there was nothing, and then I heard ragged breathing that was unmistakably Rhysand’s. Feeling my way through the dark, I moved closer to the sound of breathing until I was standing in front of a couch directly adjacent to a cluster of chairs and a fireplace. _Feyre’s favorite couch_ , I realized. “Rhysand, what it is? What’s wrong? What happened to make you act so crazy up there?”

For a long moment there was nothing, and then his voice rasped through the air. “Mor.” 

Not a question; a statement. A request, a plea. He needed someone desperately — I could feel it in the air around him, in the way he said my name. I waited, patiently, until his hoarse voice once again filled the silence. “She’s pregnant.”

“Who —?” I started, then cut myself off, realization hitting me like a blow to the gut. Feyre. Feyre was pregnant. My High Lady was pregnant, in enemy territory. Rage so consuming I saw red pulsed through my veins for a split second before I pulled on the leash restraining it. Now was not the time for my rage. I was thankful for the darkness so he couldn’t register the shock on my face.

“She —,” He started, but his voice broke and he paused. A moment later he started again and the words began pouring out, like a drain that had finally been unplugged. “She didn’t mean to tell me. I heard it on accident — I don’t even think she knows that I know. And she’s going to stay there, in the Spring Court. I know her — she’s going to think her mission there is more important. She’s going to think bringing down that lowlife piece of trash is worth risking the life of our child!” His voice had risen to a crescendo, and now it filled the space around us, full of angst. “How could she not have told me! How could she not have —,” His voice broke on the word and then the sound of his sobbing filled the room. He was silent for a long moment, only the sound of his violent tears breaking the quiet. After a moment, he said, “What if I can’t protect them, Mor? What if Tamlin kills them just like he did mom and Saraphina?” The terror and pain I registered broke my heart as much almost as much as the words he had uttered.

He stopped talking for a long moment, and I edged my way toward him until my shins collided with the couch he was sitting on. I laid a hand on his shoulder and could feel his body shaking with the force of his sobs beneath it. Sitting down beside him, I gathered his massive form in my arms as best as I could and held him as he wept. 

When at last his tears seemed to subside, I said the only thing I could say, the only thing there was left to say. “You are good, Rhysand. You are strong, and kind, and loyal, and you will be an amazing father. But you can’t protect Feyre or your child from the world, because the world is a terrifying place and no one person can shoulder that burden alone.” And then, because he hadn’t said anything, I continued, “You need to talk to Feyre. We need to make a plan, and we need to get her out of there; it is not longer safe. That is all we can do for now — you worry about the rest of it later.” A long pause, and then I felt him nod his head beside me.


	9. Sleepless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre finally hears from Rhys and is forced to confront the secrets she has been keeping from him.

Feyre

_Feyre_. The sound of a voice inside my head jarred me from a fitful sleep. I blinked my eyes, still groggy, unsure if I had dreamt it until — _Feyre, are you there?_ Relief at the sound of his voice inside my head hit me so hard I had to reign in a sob. I dropped a shield into place around the room before responding.

_I’m here, Rhysand. I’m right here._ A shudder of what felt like relief pulsed down the bond between us.

_Feyre, we need to talk._ Instantly my mind went to the worst place. Had someone been hurt? Worse? _No, everyone’s fine. But we still need to talk._ I paused for a second, waiting for him to go on. _Feyre… I know about the baby._

The world slowed, then stopped. My hands went instinctively to my abdomen, and I was shocked to find that I could finally feel a bump there. It was small, but there was no mistaking it. _Rhysand, I —._ I cut myself off. There was no point in making excuses, no point trying to hide it. _I’m sorry I didn’t tell you_. The apology hung there for a second, and it didn’t feel nearly adequate to make up for what I had been concealing from him. Him and I, we didn’t have secrets. So for me to have kept this from him… It felt like the worst kind of betrayal.

_Stop that._ He said gently into my mind _. You can’t let yourself regret the decisions you’ve made. You’ll drive yourself insane that way. You did what you thought was the right thing to do, and you can’t let yourself dwell on it._ He paused for a long moment, as if he was choosing his next words carefully. _I’m not upset with you for what you did — I need you to know that. But, Feyre, it’s time for you to come home. I know that’s not my decision to make for you, but please, for our child, for our family and our future together, please come home. Don’t risk this — it’s not worth it. It’s not worth our baby._

I was crying now, silently shaking with the force of my sobs, with the need to feel his arms around me, breathe in his scent, see his smiling face. _I know. But I’m still sorry I didn’t tell you. I will never stop being sorry for that._

After a moment of silence between us, he spoke again. _How far along are you?_ He asked me, and I suddenly felt self conscious. What if he didn’t want children? I knew we’d talked about it a bit, but it would be hard, so hard for him after all he’d been through —. _Never, Feyre, for even a second, think that I do not want this child. You have to know how much I want this — how much I want you both. Nothing in the world could possibly make me happier than our family. I love you. I love you both so much._

_Thank you,_ I said quietly. He’d known how much I needed to hear those words, how scared and alone I felt. How terrified I was that something would happen and it would be my fault. _I think I’m about three months along. I can’t be certain without going to a healer, and I can’t risk it while I’m here. I… Rhysand, I’m so close. Give me another week, and then I’ll come home and we’ll be a family again._

_Feyre, you know this is your decision to make. It is always your decision. But please, please consider the line you’re walking here. If you’re discovered, if something were to happen… Three days. Can you do what you need to get done in three days?_ He asked, and I could hear the fear again creeping into his voice. For him, for our child, I had to do this. I could do this.

_Three days. And then I’ll come home._ I knew we needed to wrap our conversation up. I never knew when Tamlin might try to join me in bed and I couldn’t be in my head with Rhysand if he did. For all I knew, he would be able to smell it on me like Lucien had. _I love you. I’ll be home soon._

_I love you too_ , he said, and then he was gone. I felt empty without his voice inside my head. Empty and so, so heavy. I curled up into a ball and closed my eyes, sleep claiming me faster than I would have thought possible.


	10. Secrets, Secrets, Are No Fun...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tamlin discovers Feyre's deceit.

I was startled out of my heavy slumber by a light knocking on my door. Sitting up in bed, I realized it was still dark out — it couldn’t be more than a few hours past midnight. Another light knocking sounded, and then a cautious voice called out, “Feyre? Are you awake?” Tamlin.

“I’m up,” I called sleepily, and he pushed through the doors and padded over to my bed.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but I got caught up dealing with one of Hybern’s commanders. I promised I would check on you, and I didn’t want you to think that I’d forgotten.”

“What was the problem with Hybern’s commander?” I asked, eager that maybe I could find some useful information here.

“Nothing important,” he said, shutting me out as he often tried to pretend he wasn’t doing. I signed internally. If this conversation wasn’t going to yield anything important, than I knew why he was really here. “Are you feeling better?” He asked.

“Much better. I just needed some rest,” I said, hoping he would take the hint. He didn’t. Big surprise. Instead he sat down in bed beside me and drew me into his side. I had to fight the urge to gag as his scent washed over me.

“I’m glad. Can’t have my darling feeling sick,” he said, and something mischievous gleamed in his eye as he did. I knew what he wanted, and I knew that I couldn’t outright refuse his without arousing suspicion. I smiled sleepily at him as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead. Then he pressed another one to my jaw, and finally, one to my lips. Deplorable as it was, I reminded myself why I was here, who and what I was protecting by doing this.

His hands started an exploration of my chest and hips, and then his lips traveled lower, between my breasts, and I knew where he was going. I tried to keep myself from panicking — I couldn’t let my fear show. He pulled my nightgown up to expose my stomach, and I was about to tell him that I wasn’t ready for this yet, hadn’t healed enough to be this intimate with anyone, when he froze, hands on my waist. When I looked at him, all the intent was gone from his eyes.

“What’s wrong, love? Why’d you stop?” I asked sweetly, as if I wasn’t grateful for the reprieve. For a long moment, he said nothing. When he looked up at me and I saw the fury in his gaze, I knew I’d made a mistake.

“How long,” he said, his voice so quiet and guttural I almost couldn’t hear what he had said.

“How long what?” I asked him.

“How long have you known you were pregnant with that bastard’s child and not said anything.” He looked at my with hundreds of years worth of wrath and rage and I froze, terror flooding my veins. “HOW LONG HAVE YOU KNOWN!” He bellowed, and I backed up as far away from him as I could get, pressing myself against the headboard.

“Tamlin I — I didn’t know what to do. I, I’m sorry. But I won’t… I won’t do what it is you want me to do. I may not want to have… _his_ child, but… I’m keeping it. Because it’s my child too.” I called Tarquin’s salt water to my eyes to sell it. I knew that it was weak, but it was all I had. I couldn’t risk him finding out the truth, couldn’t risk him hurting my baby.

But it was as if he hadn’t even hear me, as if he was lost inside his own head. He was staring directly at my stomach, at the small bump there that I stupidly, foolishly thought he wouldn’t notice. He must have smelled that new scent that clung to me. I couldn’t claim that it was his, as we hadn’t yet been that intimate. There was nothing I could do but pray he would buy my explanation. His expression was blank, his gaze hollow. I was about to reach for him, but as I extended my hand, the room exploded.

I was thrown hard across the room into a wall, and barely had time to shield myself from a flying table as I collided with the ground. My ears were ringing, my body peppered with cuts and bruises that were already blooming. My hands instantly flew to my stomach as I found my way to my feet, but when my right wrist brushed my abdomen I yanked it back, holding in a scream as searing pain tore through my arm. I looked at it and realized it was dangling at a wrong angle. I staggered backwards, frantic to get my bearings, to locate where Tamlin had gone. The ringing in my ears was replaced with a new sound, one I couldn’t make out. As I stumbled forward, I barely recognized the sound of someone banging on the exterior of my mental walls, screaming my name.

_FEYRE!_ I heard a male voice yelling. Vaguely, I realized it was Rhysand, but I will still too dazed to formulate a response. As I looked up, I saw Tamlin staring where my bed used to be. He was the epicenter of the destruction. While the entire room was a destroyed, mangled mess, he was completely unscathed, the destruction radiating outward from his tense, violent figure.

“Tamlin?” I asked. I had no way of knowing if he still believed my lies, if he had realized yet that it had been a ruse the entire time. He was still as a statue, and remained silent for a long time. When he turned to look at me, it was if he wasn’t really seeing me at all.

“We’re getting that thing out of you. I will not have you being forced to carry his seed, to raise that demon child.” I stood there in horror, hands clutched to my stomach, and began backing towards the doorway. He was completely volatile — there was no reasoning with him anymore. I had to get out of there. As I made for the door, I felt a strange wind rustle my hair, and then darkness filled the room, swirling, pulsing, writhing. It cleared away to reveal a tall, beautiful man in an impeccable black jacket and pants, with blue-black hair and violet eyes.

I nearly sobbed in relief as I took in my mate, the High Lord of the Night Court, standing before me.


	11. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RHYSAND TO THE RESCUE!! ...even though I know that Feyre is a strong, independent character who doesn't need to rely on anyone else to get sh*t done.

Rhysand

I took in the room around me, the destruction that had befallen it. When my eyes landed on my mate and found her still breathing, everything else faded to background noise.

“Feyre,” I said, a choked noise escaping her as she realized who it was standing before her. She took a step toward me and collapsed into my arms, weeping from fear or joy or some other mix of emotions. I held her shaking form, pressing her against my body, needing every point of contact that I had been aching for for so many weeks. As I held her, I took in the cuts and bruises peppering her skin, the seemingly broken wrist that she cradled against her chest, and I saw red. He had done this to her. He had hurt her and I was going to make him pay for it. I looked up to find him staring at us from the center of the destruction, a hideous sneer on his face and a manic light emanating from his eyes. It was truly gruesome.

“Look at that, the night prince come to rescue his princess at last. Is this what you’ve been hiding from me, Feyre? You were working with him the whole time? I should have known never to trust a poor slut. How long did you think that you coul—,” Tamlin spewed, but was stopped as I took away his ability to speak. How dare he talk to my mate that way, how dare he insult my the woman I loved. I was going to make him pay for every single second she had suffered at his hand.

“What’s that, Tamlin, cat god your tongue? Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not polite to hit a woman? Your mother must have neglected to teach you proper manners. No matter; I’m sure Feyre darling is a perfectly capable instructor,” I said with a sideways glance at Feyre. She had composed herself enough that she could stand on her own again, and the look that she was giving Tamlin could have melted tungsten. When she opened her mouth, there was nothing of the woman I had come to love there. There was only the cold, hardened, bitter creature she had become here. What she might had become if we had never saved her.

“You deserve, far, far worse a fate than you will ever find at my hands. You deserve to die a horrible, painful death for the things you did to me, the things you did to you people. But klling you outright would be far too easy. I think, perhaps, it would be far more entertaining to watch you suffer. And you will suffer when your people discover how you killed me in a fit of uncontrollable rage. You will suffer when your guards turn on you, when your people disown you. I’ll make sure of it.” Her eyes were a raging, stormy ocean, and her face was limned with fury. Then she turned to me and said, “We need to retrieve Lucien.” Tamlin’s face contorted into a horrible picture of shock and outrage, but I cut off the air in his lungs and within seconds he had collapsed to the ground. I didn’t need to ask questions when it came to Lucien — if Feyre trusted him, it was good enough for me.

Feyre took my hand and turned away, putting Tamlin and the Spring court and all she had suffered at her back, instead choosing to face towards the future that she would create for herself.


	12. Love and Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wrap up for now... not sure if I will revisit this work or not.

Feyre

I held myself together until we had made it back to the safety of our bedroom. We had retrieved Lucien, who had come with little protest, and was currently residing in the town house under the close watch of Azriel and Amren. Rhysand had confirmed that my wrist was indeed broken, but my immortal healing had sped the fusing of the bones so that it had set improperly. I’d had to bite down on a piece of cloth to keep from screaming as Rhys had re-broken it and then set it properly, but he had healed it for me and it was now back to normal, if a bit stiff and sore. We’d been silent nearly the entire time, exchanging only a few words when necessary. It wasn’t until we’d returned to our bedroom, until I’d shed my torn nightgown for a fresh one, that I let myself fall apart.

When the full weight of missing Rhysand finally hit me like a blow to the gut, I collapsed onto the bed and began to weep. My knees had simply given out — I couldn’t have stood if I’d wanted to. I felt strong hands wrap around me a second before I smelled Rhysand settle onto the bed next to me. He curled around me, chest to chest, heart to heart, and held me as I sobbed. We stayed that way for what felt like an eternity, long after I’d stopped crying. I didn’t dare move and risk upsetting this perfect bubble we were in, right here, right now. How long had I spent wishing I could be doing exactly this? How many nights had I lain awake wishing that I could hold him just once, smell him and hear his voice in my ears just once? The reality was so much more than I could have ever dreamed.

After a while Rhys finally broke the silence. “Feyre, I missed you every second we were apart. I love you so, so much…” he trailed off, his eyes coming to rest on my cheeks as he met my gaze. “Is… Is the baby okay? Did Tamlin —,” he cut himself off, as if not willing to allow himself to consider the possibility. I myself had been avoiding the question, too lost in my mate to allow it to breach my bubble of contentment.

“I don’t know,” I said, scared to allow my mind to go there. With the injuries I had sustained, it was possible…

Sensing my fear, Rhysand said, “Whatever happens, I will still love you. I will always love you, and this doesn’t change that.” The words seemed to settle something inside me, and as I lay in his arms, I extended my awareness not outward, but inward, focusing on the tiny life blossoming within me. Focusing all my energy, I reached out with my senses… And sobbed in relief as I found that our child was still there, was still alive just below the surface of my stomach. I felt Rhysand’s relief shudder down the bond and he clutched me tighter in his arms.

And then, with a movement so gentle, so tender it broke my heart, he withdrew his arms and lifted up my nightgown to expose my bare stomach and the small bump that had grown there. He stared for a moment, as if not quite believing his eyes, and then he reverently pressed a kiss to my stomach.

“I love you, little one. Mommy and daddy love you,” he said, his voice thick. Then he looked up at me and in one swift movement leaned forward and claimed my mouth with his own. “Thank you,” he whispered to me, breaking our kiss. “Thank you for all of it, but mostly, thank you for this. Thank you for honoring me with this child. Parents Feyre — we’re going to be parents.” He said it as if he almost didn’t believe it himself. Then he pressed another kiss to my lips, holding me fiercely, and I kissed him back with all the love I had to give. Even after all we’d been through, all we’d suffered together and apart, the fact that we even still possessed the ability to love was remarkable. But as I looked into his star-flecked violet eyes, I couldn’t imagine ever having felt any other way about this male, my mate who I loved with the fire of a thousand suns. My High Lord who would bow before no one and nothing but his crown… and me.


	13. Home Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I've come back to this work again and have been working on some new stuff -- more to come!

I could have stayed like that forever, curled on the bed, in Rhys’s arms, perfectly content to let the world outside our bedroom continue on without us. But I knew that wasn’t an option, especially now, with so many things up in the air, not to mention a war that we were preparing for. I must have dozed off for a while, because when I woke, the light had changed from the soft hues of early dawn to the light of full day.

I made to push up off the bed, but Rhysand laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Feyre… I know that you want to go and help everyone and try to fix everything you can right this very instant. You wouldn’t be the woman I loved if you didn’t. But please, take some consideration for yourself, for our child, and the ordeal you’ve just been through. You should rest now. At the very least, we should call for a healer, just to be sure you’re both all right.” I took in his words, the concern written all over his body, but pushed them aside. As much as I might want to take several weeks to just lay in bed and sleep, I couldn’t afford that luxury right now. I had so many things I needed to do… Starting with facing my sisters.

“Rhys, as much as I want to just stay here and rest, you and I both know we don’t have that kind of time to spare right now. We can call for a healer to come this evening. Even if I am pregnant, even if I must remain on the sidelines in some ways, I still want to make myself useful. I don’t just want to be dead weight,” I said to him as I met his eyes.

He looked at me as if he saw everything, all my weaknesses and insecurities, yet still there was kindness in his eyes. Still he chose, every day, to stay by my side. “You know you will never be dead weight. You are brilliant, and kind, and selfless, and even if that wasn’t enough, even if being my mate wasn’t enough, the fact that you love me, that you love this place and these people with the whole of your heart, that will _always_ be enough.” Tears welled up in me and threatened to spill over. I reached up and placed a hand on his face, tracing the contours of his cheek, his jaw, before pressing a soft, featherlight kiss to his lips.

“I love you,” I whispered onto his lips. Then, because time was a constant weight I felt pressing on my shoulders, I added, “And I promise you, I am fine.” In an attempt to prove my point, I gingerly pushed myself out of bed. I was still sore everywhere, and I winced as I drew myself upright and tried to take a deep breath. I must have a deep bruise one one of my ribs if my immortal blood had not yet healed it..

My mate regarded me warily, noting every movement, not missing the amount of pain my bruised ribs were causing me, but he held his tongue. He knew the cages I had suffered in my life, and was not about to force another one on me, regardless of the fact that I was now responsible for protecting the life of his child. He made no comment as I hissed and winced my way over to the armoire containing my clothes and pulled on a shirt and a pair of loose fitting pants. Then, because I was in no way willing to walk the one thousand steps it would take to reach the House of Wind without wings, I turned to Rhysand.

“Would you be willing to fly me up to the House?” I asked him as a soft smile curved his lips.

“Always, my love,” he said, taking my hand. I didn’t miss the new kind of worry that flashed in his eyes as he said it.


	14. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre and Mor are reunited

As we entered the House of Wind through the dining room I caught a flash of blonde curls and a heard a strangled cry before I saw Mor’s face as she ran towards us. She crashed into me and squeezed me so tight I could hardly breathe, but I was out of breath for an entirely different reason as tears streamed down my face and I embraced her.

“Easy now,” Rhysand said, laying a hand on Mor’s shoulders and flashing her a meaningful look. Mor turned her head towards him and stuck out her tongue before releasing me and slinging her arm around my back, holding me tight against her.

“Just because Feyre’s pregnant doesn’t mean she’s made of glass,” she said with a meaningful look at Rhysand. I looked over at her, the shock evident in my face, and she laughed.

“You told her?” I asked Rhys incredulously, the shook my head and laughed with her. Of course he had. _Couldn’t keep the good news to myself and let you have all the fun, now could I,_ Rhysand said to me down the bond. I laughed again, but didn’t miss the shadows in his eyes as he said it.

“Feyre!” Mor squealed, squeezing my shoulders. “This is going to be so much fun! And I am obviously going spoil your little one rotten,” she added with a wry smile. At least someone was making light of the situation. Or, at the very least, making some sort of attempt at normalcy.

I looked at her smiling face, so resilient despite the horrors she had face in her lifetime, and had the sudden urge to pull her to my chest again. I hugged her fiercely, and she hugged me back, not saying anything. “I missed you so much,” I said into her shoulder. When the moment had passed and I could finally bring myself to pull away, I looked to Rhysand. Now that our reunion was over, I knew it was time to attend to other matters. “Where are my sisters?” I asked him. Again, that same look of worry crossed over his features, but he just took my hand.

“Follow me.”


	15. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre is finally forced to face her sisters

Rhysand led me down a winding staircase into the heart of the mountain where the bedrooms, sitting rooms, and library were housed. I followed him as he took us to the library, then stopped just outside its closed doors. I knew he was waiting for me to open them, but it was still a moment before I could bring myself to do it. Drawing in a deep breath, I pulled myself up straighter, drew my shoulders back, and pulled the door open, preparing myself for whatever I might find on the other side.

Nesta was sitting in a chair in front of a row of windows that overlooked the mountain range the house was nestled in. She had her knees curled up to her chest and a book propped on top of them, looking, for once, very _un_ -Nesta-like. When she noticed that other people had entered the room, something in her demeanor changed — shifted. She went on alert, the ease with which she had just been lounging forgotten. She relaxed a little when she realized who it as standing in the threshold, once she had ascertained that we were not a threat. 

Then she seemed to really see us, to understand who it was standing before her, and her breathing hitched. She looked me up and down, as if not quite believing her eyes, then stood up and took a tentative step forward. Then another, and another, until she was standing toe to toe with me. She looked me up and down, once, twice, her eyes snagging on my midriff. She lifted her gaze to meet mine, and before I had a chance to say anything, she rushed forward and threw herself into my arms. I stood there for a shocked moment, not really knowing how to react, before curling my arms around her and embracing her back.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered into her hair. “I’m sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it.”

“Hush,” she shushed me. “You mustn’t blame yourself. What’s done is done, there’s no use fretting over it now. We’ve all done things in our life that we wish we could take back, but wasting your life away wondering over the ifs of the past will do you no good.”

I was taken aback by her gesture, even more so by the words that accompanied it. I had imagined our reunion many different ways, but this was not one of the scenarios I had pictured or prepared for. I had expected much more… hostility from Nesta.

“I missed you,” I said as we at last pulled apart.

“I don’t see how you would have had much time to miss me what with all the trouble you’ve been causing,” she said, then paused. “Speaking of which…” she trailed off and then gestured to my stomach.

“Oh… I um… Well, now didn’t really seem like the best time to break the news, but… I’m pregnant.” It came out more like a question than a statement. She cast me a skeptical look.

“Is now really the best time to be starting a family? With war coming, and the position you’d be putting yourself in, especially now that you’re openly associated with _him_ ,” she said and gestured to Rhysand, “are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Well it’s a little late for that now, isn’t it? I’m here, and I’m doing the best I can with the hand I’ve been dealt.” It came out sounding harsher than I had intended.

“You know, there are always other options, if now isn’t the right time…” she trailed off.

“What are you suggesting?” I said, my voice raising in a crescendo. Maybe she was just trying to be sisterly, trying to make sure I understood all my options, but I had decided long ago that I was having this baby. And what she was implying…

Rhysand stepped up to my side, understanding the meaning of what she was saying as well, and I could tell from the look on his face that he didn’t like it one bit. But he wouldn’t interfere — he would let me fight my own battles.

Nesta noted his movement closer to me, the protective way in which he had angled his body, and snorted. “Oh, that’s just rich. Another overbearing fae male protecting what he thinks is his. Feyre, what I’m saying is that you don’t have to have this child. You don’t have to be the damsel in distress, unable to defend herself in the middle of a war because you’re too busy trying to defend your child instead.”

I inhaled sharply, wrapping one hand around protectively around my abdomen. “I am having this baby, whether or not you think it is a good idea. And regardless of whether or not I’m pregnant, I am not helpless. I have learned to fight, learned to defend myself. Can you say as much of yourself?” Nesta just looked at me, almost as if she pitied me, shook her head, then turned on her heal and resumed her seat at the window, picking up her book in the clearest form of dismissal. I didn’t know what to make of it, how to respond. She had been so happy to see me. So why had she reacted the way she had?

I turned to leave and could feel Rhys’s comforting presence at my back as I made for the door. As I passed into the hallway and the door slid shut, I heard her mutter from behind me, almost too low to hear, “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.” I continued down the hall.

When I reached the end of the hallway I paused and leaned against a wall for support, breathing uneven. I leaned my forehead against the wall and then I felt strong hands on my shoulders, rubbing my back, letting me know he was there. I reached out and grabbed his arm, leaning back into the warm shelter of his body, and stayed like that for a minute until my breathing had evened out. Then I turned to him and cautiously asked, “Elain?”

“Feyre,” he started, “I don’t know if —”

“Rhysand, where is my sister,” I cut him off. I needed to see her, needed to ascertain for myself what kind of condition she might be in. Deep down, I just needed something to be alright. By the look in Rhysand’s eyes, I knew I was not going to get what I wanted.

“She’s just through here,” He said, gesturing to a doorway a few doors down. “But, Feyre, you need to prepare yourself. She hasn’t been the same since she came out of the Cauldron. She… She hasn’t spoken since she first arrived here. She’s barely eating. She doesn’t leave her room, just sits in there, staring out the window all day. Are you sure you’re up for this?”

“I need to know, Rhys. I need to see her.” He just nodded, as if he understood completely, as if he would have felt and done the same if he were in my position.

“Do you want me to come with you?” He asked.

“I — yes. I don’t know if I can do this alone,” I admitted. He only nodded and gathered my hand in his own, waiting for me to lead the way. When I finally gathered the courage, I crossed the hall and pushed the door open.

Elain had always been slight — delicate, like a flower. But she had also been strong in her own kind of away, vibrant and bursting with life, refusing to let the world beat her into submission even as it kicked us down over and over again. As I took in the girl who sat by the window, long hair thrown carelessly over her shoulder, hands gripped tightly in her lap, I recognized nothing of the sister I had known.

This girl before me was pale and sallow, as if her skin had been drained of all color. Her arms and legs looked dangerously thin, like if a too-strong breeze could snap them light a twig, and her eyes were hollow and sunken like her cheeks. Looking at her sitting there in front of the window, perched on a chair, I was reminded of a bird about to take flight. I was relieved when I noticed that the windows in this room had all been bolted shut, and then horrified that I should even have to worry about such a thing.

“Elain?” I called out cautiously, taking a single step forward. She did not respond. I took another step forward, and when she continued to say nothing, I crossed the rest of the way, coming to stand beside her. I looked out to try to see what she might be seeing, but when I looked at her eyes, I realized she wasn’t seeing anything at all. They were dull and unfocused, hazy in a way that told me she was lost in her own head. Maybe what she needed was someone to help her find the way back.

Tentatively, I reached out with my mind, seeking my sister, hoping I could find her somewhere in there. What I met when I reached her mind was unlike anything I had ever seen. It was as if there was nothing there — a barren landscape, blackened like ash, as if everything that had once resided there had been burned to the ground. I recoiled, spooling myself back into my own headspace, reeling from what I had just seen. Where had my sister gone? Was there any way to get her back?

I retreated a step. Then another. Then another and another until I was sure I had to be flush with the wall. My breathing had become erratic, and panic gripped me like a fist around my ribs. I felt a stab of pain in my abdomen, and vaguely recalled a conversation I’d had with Lucien — had it only been yesterday? — in which he had told me I needed to rest more or risk endangering my pregnancy. A different kind of pain lanced through my heart as I took in my sister attending her unending vigil at the window. All I could feel was pain and bone weary exhaustion. It was all too much. My vision blurred, then started spinning. I reached for the door frame, but my hand didn’t connect with anything. I had the vague sense of the world falling away from beneath me, strong arms cushioning my fall, and then nothing.


	16. Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre and Rhys have an important conversation

The sound of murmuring voices in the hallway drew me from my slumber. I cracked my eyes open and was met with low, dim lighting. I was in my own bed, in the town house. The sun outside had long since set, and a lamp next to my bedside table was burning low, casting flickering shadows on the wall.

The voices outside seemed to finish up whatever they had been discussing, and soon the room was quiet again. I heard a door creak and lifted my head in time to catch Rhysand slipping back into the bedroom, clearly trying not to wake me. He cracked me a tired, weary smile when he realized I was awake.

“How are my girls?” he asked warmly, seemingly relieved that I was awake.

“Girls? As in, plural?” I asked skeptically, uncertain of what he was implying.

“Ah, yes. I had meant to make it a surprise, but I guess everything doesn’t always work out the way you want it to.” I flashed him a look that said isn’t that the understatement of the century. “A healer came to examine you after you passed out up at the House. Apparently you had overtaxed your body quite remarkably. That combined with the… emotional distress you were in caused you to lose consciousness. Lucien also filled us in on the fact that you were cramping yesterday, a helpful little face that you neglected to mention to me,” he chided.

“Whoops,” I said cautiously, noting the panic that still lingered in his eyes.

“Feyre, you were bleeding. The healer said that if you had pushed your body any further… It could have been much worse.” He moved across the room as he said this, coming the perch on the edge of the bed next to my feet. “I just wish that you had told me how much pain you were in. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. We could have gotten you help sooner.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… I just needed to see them for myself, Rhys. I needed to make sure they were okay.”

“I know. I know.” He was silent for a long moment before he said, “I just hope that next time you’ll be willing to put yourself higher on your list of priorities. After all, you really aren’t just caring for yourself anymore. You have earned the right to put yourself above them, just for a little while.” He took my hand in his as he met my gaze and held it. “I know its not always easy for you to put yourself first. Trust me, I empathize with the sentiment. But right now, it may be what’s best for you.”

“I—,” I stopped myself. Now wasn’t the time to make excuses. “I’ll try,” I promised him. And I would. I wasn’t just making this promise to him, I was making it to myself, to our unborn child. “What was that you were saying about girls earlier?”

A wry smile curved his lips. “Ah. That. When the healer was seeing to you, he was also able to determine the sex of the baby. Were going to have a little girl.” Real joy lit his face as he said it, and I couldn’t help but smile myself. I was going to have a daughter. I lay back against the headboard and folded my hands over my belly. I could feel her in there, growing peacefully, unaware of the dangers that awaited her outside her cozy cocoon.

Rhysand leaned forward and gently unfolded my hands from where they rested on my abdomen, but before I could say anything, he leaned forward and pressed his temple to my stomach. It took me a moment to realize there were tears streaming down his face, tears of pain and joy, of fear and love. I pulled his face up so it was level with mine and slowly bent forward, kissing away the tears that ran down his face. Then I pulled him into my chest and held him, stroking his hair gently as he laid one tentative hand on my stomach.

I held him like that for several long moments before he pulled back, sitting up straight again. I patted the bed beside me and he crawled over my legs and settled next to me, curling himself into my side. I laid my head on his shoulder and whispered, “I love you. I’m sorry I frightened you.”

“Hush,” he whispered back. “All that matters is that you’re all right. That you’re both all right,” he amended as he rubbed his hand across my stomach, drawing soothing circles with his gentle, calloused hands.

“I wish we could have days to spend like this. Just you and me, and no one else. I missed being alone with you,” I said as I turned my head up and kissed his jaw.

“I missed being with you too, Feyre,” he sighed. Then, “And lucky for you, the healer has put you on bed rest, so we’ll have plenty of time to spend together in this bedroom. Alone.”

“Oh?” I met his gaze. “And just what kind of activities did you have in mind? I assume that with the complications with that baby have taken sex off the table,” I said bluntly.

“I think there are other ways we could find to amuse ourselves,” he said coyly.

“Hmm,” I hummed in agreement. “Such as?”

“Allow me to show you,” he smirked, then leaned in and claimed my mouth with his own.


	17. Confinement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre is confined to her bed and is following the healer's orders to stay on bed rest... Mostly ;)

When I woke to the light of day, Rhysand was already gone. There was a note by the bedside written in his elegant scrawl, with a pen laid beside it.

_Gone to a meeting with the Council of the Palaces. Will be back soon. Remember you’re on bed rest — if you need anything, Nuala and Cerridwen are there._

_All my love,_

_Rhysand_

I flipped the note over and scrawled a quick response.

_Bed rest it is — anything to please my High Lord. See you when you return._

I had barely set the pen down when the note vanished. I smiled as I watched it go, knowing Rhysand had received my message. I rolled over and swept my feet over the side of the bed, standing on shaky legs. I knew I was supposed to be on bed rest, but _gods_ did I need to relieve myself. I couldn’t remember the last time I had had the chance to use the bathroom, and the fact that I was pregnant wasn’t doing anything to help.

By the time I returned to the bedroom, my stomach was growling. Come to think of it, I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten, either.

“Nuala?” I called out cautiously. “Cerridwen? Is anybody there?” I felt like a fool as I did it, especially when I realized that there really was no one there. Sighing, I plodded out of the bedroom and down the stairs. When I reached the bottom of the steps, I was startled to find Amren, sitting in a high backed chair before the fire, examining the book in her lap with those otherworldly grey eyes. A hint of a smirk traced her features as she took me in.

“I thought you were supposed to be staying in bed, girl,” said, her eyes taking on a wicked gleam. “Someone is very bad at following directions. Don’t know whats good for you,” she winked, “sometimes.” Then she stood and smiled — really smiled at me, and I smiled back, not missing the light that I so rarely saw in her eyes.

“There was no one else around, and I’m absolutely famished. Was I just supposed to starve up there when I knew full well that I could find perfectly good food down here?” Her smile widened into something razor edged and wicked as I said it, and she snapped her fingers once.

“I think you’ll find that there is plenty enough food in your room now,” she said, and I realized she must have sent some upstairs.

“Where are Nuala and Cerridwen, anyways?” I asked, leaning against a wall for support. I was still utterly exhausted. 

Amren’s eyes noted the movement, as they noted everything, and she chided, “Someone’s tired. Not going soft on me, are you?” She smirked at me, then said, “Azriel needed to borrow the twins, so he sent me to babysit you.”

“Hmm,” I hummed. “I would have thought such work was beneath you.”

“It is. But I was feeling charitable, and Rhysand was terribly worried you would be lonely, so here we are. And as your babysitter, I feel it is my duty to remind you that you are meant to be staying in bed,” she said as she gestured for me to go back up the stairs. Reluctant to return to my bedroom, I grudgingly turned and walked up the stairs, stopping when I got to the threshold of my and Rhysand’s room.

Amren reached the top of the stairs just after me, stopping part ways down the hall, and said, “If you need anything, I’ll be around. Probably.” She paused, then added, “It’s good to see you home, Feyre.” I watched her turn and walk back down the stairs, no doubt to resume her place before the fire. 

As she passed out of sight and my door snicked shut on an soft breeze, I whispered, “I missed you too, Amren.” Then I turned and all the thoughts fell out of my head as I noticed the mouth watering aroma coming from the silver hooded tray that had been placed next to my bed. “Guess she really does care,” I said to myself, making my way over to the bed.


	18. Push and Pull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre struggles with the position being pregnant during a war is putting her in

Rhysand returned later in the day. All morning I had been trying to find ways I could be useful, things I could do to help us prepare from the confines of my bed. When I’d come up short, I tried to distract myself instead by reading. That didn't hold my attention long. Eventually, since I wasn’t allowed to pace, I’d given up and taken to picking at my nails, worrying about everything that could possibly go wrong, with my family, with the war, with the baby.

“Keeping busy, I see,” Rhys commented as he walked in. His brow was furrowed and I could see the concern lingering in his features. Whether he was worried about me or something else, I wasn’t entirely certain.

“How was your meeting,” I asked, trying to keep my tone light. He could see right through me all the same.

“It went well, all things considered. We were discussing protocols about sheltering refugees for when the time comes. How about you? How are my two lovely ladies doing?” he asked, reaching out and gently laying a hand on my stomach. He bent forward and pressed a soft kiss to my lips, then pressed another one to my belly.

“We’re fine, all things considered,” I said, smirking at him. “The morning was… rather unproductive.” I paused for a moment and he sat there, patiently waiting for me to continue, eyes flickering between my stomach and my face. “I want to find a way to be useful. I don’t want to just sit around for the next seven months on my ass. That won’t be doing anyone any good. Regardless of whether or not I’m pregnant, I’m still High Lady, and I have a responsibility to our people.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, as if considering what I had just said.

“You won’t be sidelined just because you’re carrying our child, Feyre. There are still plenty of things you can do to help, and there are still plenty of things that we are going to need from you, even if you can’t be out in the field with us.” 

I nodded, then considered. “But if I’m stuck up here, in a bed, what good can I possibly be doing anyone?” I inquired.

“I spoke with the healer last night,” he said, stroking his hand in absentminded circles over my stomach. “You’re only on bed rest for two more days, and then you can be back up and on your feet again, albeit cautiously, at least for the first few days. You can do regular activities, as long as you remember to take it easy. And I would tell you to relax and not worry while you’re stuck in here, but I know there’s no way you’re ever going to do that.” He smiled, just a little, as he said it.

“On that account, you are most definitely right,” I responded.

“If you’re going to be stuck in here, then I’m going to be stuck in here with you. We do this together. We take this journey together, and follow wherever it may lead us.” He removed his hand from where it rested on my stomach and took my hand in his.

“We take this journey together, like all the others. To whatever end,” I said to him, looking at his face, into his violet eyes that held so much love and kindness and generosity. After a moment, he broke my gaze so he could slide into bed next to me, but kept his hand in mine as we lay side by side, nestled into one another.

“We need to have a meeting with everyone. There are some things we should discuss, such as what we’re to do with your little fox friend from the Spring Court. I can tell them to meet us here, if you’re up for it.” He turned his head and placed a kiss on my temple as he said it.

“Yes but… let’s wait. Have them over in a few hours. I want to spend some time with you first.”

He slipped one arm around my shoulder, the other coming to rest on my stomach. “Of course. Anything for the woman I love.” My core tightened as he said it, and I was flooded with a rush of aching happiness so consuming it made me want to cry. I knew Rhysand could feel what I was feeling through the bond, and he pulled me tighter against him. I looked up at him, eyes keen, devouring his beautiful features. After a moment, his gaze met my own.

“I love it when you do that,” he said quietly.

“Do what?” I inquired.

“When you look at me like that. Like I’m the only person in the world. Like I _am_ your world. No one has ever looked at me like that since…” He was silent for a moment. “When I was little, and my sister was just born, I remember watching my mother with her. I remember her looking at her like that — like no one and nothing else mattered, like she was the brightest star in the night sky. She used to look at me like that sometimes, too, when she thought I wasn’t watching, or that I’d fallen asleep.

“After they were gone, no one cared about me in that way. Sure, my father loved me, but there was only so much could give, only so far he was willing to go to show me that he cared. He was a general, born and bred, and nothing was going to change that. Especially when losing them… It hardened him. Changed him in a way that could never be undone. 

“I never admitted it to myself back then, but beyond all the pain I felt, beyond missing them so much it felt like a piece of my soul had been ripped from my body… I missed having someone who looked at me like that. Who looked at me as if my power wasn’t something to be afraid of. Who looked at me as if I was just… Me. I never thought I’d get that again. Never thought someone would feel that way about me. Until I found you.”

When he finished, there were tears gleaming in my eyes. I held his gaze for a long moment before saying, “I will never stop looking at you like that, Rhys. Will never stop wanting to look at you like that, or feeling the way I do about you. You _are_ the brightest star in the sky, the only star in the sky. I love you, so much. Beyond who we’re expected to be, beyond who people believe we are, I love the male who had the courage to fight for me when no one else would. I love the male who has such compassion and kindness for others, even after all the horrors he has faced. I love you for being you, Rhys.” And maybe it was the fact that I had been gone for so long, maybe it was everything that had happened, but the words seemed to settle us both, to soothe some jagged edge deep within me. He had needed to hear those words as much as I had needed to say them. We helped each other remember who we were. Together, we would always find our way back to the light.

We lay there for a while, curled around each other, listening to our hearts, the soft sounds of our breathing. In the stillness, I sank deep within myself, like a stone dropped into a pool. Plunged all the way to the bottom. I felt our child growing inside me, felt her resilience and her strength. Felt her tiny yet infinite presence fill my being. And then, as I lay there, I felt something else. At first, it sounded like a tiny drum, echoing inside my abdomen. I was perplexed, feeling that beat, until I realized what it was. I drew in a sharp breath, and Rhys’s hand tightened across my stomach. 

“Rhys, can you feel…” I couldn’t convey the rest with words, so I showed him in fragmented images of my thoughts. I could feel him stretching his awareness around me, and then heard a sharp intake of breath and knew he could feel what I felt.

“It’s her heartbeat,” he whispered so gently I wasn’t sure if he had spoken out loud or into my mind. I had never heard a more beautiful sound. Rhysand seemed to be at a loss for words as I turned over to face him.

And the smile I found waiting for me, the awestruck joy that lit his face, was enough to bring a smile to my own lips. I cupped his face, ran my fingers over his lips, through his hair.

“How did I get so lucky?” he said, as if he almost couldn’t believe this was really happening. I just shook my head silently, as if saying I didn’t know either, and he curled me further into his embrace. We stayed like that for hours, holding each other, listening to our baby’s heartbeat, murmuring softly to each other about our plans for the future, allowing ourselves the chance to hope. And to heal.

Several hours later, when the light was just beginning to fade outside the windows, Rhys summoned the others. Since I wasn’t supposed to get out of bed, I instead sat myself up against the plush white pillows adorning our bed as much as I could. Rhys noted the movement, as he noted all others, but instead of moving to get out of bed himself, he just leaned over to kiss my cheek and perched himself at the edge of the bed. 

He looked at me with a wry smile and said, “If you’re stuck in bed, then so am I. Like I said — together.” I smiled softly at the words, at the gesture, just as he summoned four chairs to the space at the foot of our bed. Two were fashioned to accommodate Illyrian wings. A second later I heard the sound of the door being opened downstairs, then four sets of feet making their way up to the second floor. A shuffling sounded outside the door, and someone cleared their throat before I heard Cassian call out, “Is is safe to come in?”

Rhysand chuckled and said, “Everyone is decent, if that’s what you’re asking.” An audible exhale from outside the door, and then it pushed inward to reveal four familiar faces. Mor was beaming, her entire face practically glowing, as she strode across the room with her usual self assured confidence, and leaned over to give me a hug. Over her shoulder I noticed Cassian smirking as he prowled across the floor, Amren striding in and taking a chair in a manner that suggested she owned the place, and Azriel lingering in the doorway, shadows curling at the tips of his wings. I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips as I beheld them all, safe and sound, acting as if nothing had changed. As Cassian and Mor settled into their seats, Azriel at last entered the room to claim his as well.

“So the High Lady finally deigns to grace us with her presence,” Cassian said, and though he tried to hide it, I could see the shadows that danced in his eyes.

I smiled at him but groaned audibly. “Are you going to address me as High Lady from now on? Because I honestly don’t think I could bare the formality of it.” And just like that, the playful, casual words wiped the remaining darkness from his eyes, as if confirming for him that everything was indeed all right.

“That depends,” he said, leaning forward.

“On what?” I countered coyly.

“On how much it annoys you.” I snorted as he said it, and I could see the laughter reflected in his face. “Speaking of which, you haven’t been around much these past couple days for me to annoy. What’s with the bed?” He said, gesturing towards where I still laid. I looked at Rhysand warily. _You haven’t told them?_ I asked him down the bond.

_I haven’t exactly had the time. Besides, I thought you might want to see the look on their faces when we told them, together._ I smiled a little at that.

“Hello, earth to the mated couple,” Cassian said, waving his hands in front of our faces as if to draw us out of a trance. “Is anyone going to tell us what’s going on here?”

“Hush, boy,” Amren said, slapping his hand down from where it still hung in the air. Cassian looked like a scolded child, and I could tell Az was fighting a smile.

“Shocking as it is, I’m inclined to side with Cassian,” Azriel said. “What is this big secret I feel like everyone but me knows?”

“I…” I started, fumbling for the words. “Well, while I was in the Spring Court, I discovered some… Interesting information.” At the looks on their faces, I clarified, “About myself.” Bracing myself, I willed the words to my tongue. “I’m pregnant.”

The words rang through the room like a bell had been struck, and I could see the shock and Cassian and Azriel’s faces. And then it seemed to click that there High Lady had been pregnant, in enemy territory _,_ for the past month, and Cassian swore, low and vicious.

Azriel just asked, very calmly, “How long have you known?” As he said it, I felt the full weight of Rhysand’s attention settle on me, and realized that he, too, did not yet know how long I had known I was pregnant and withheld the information from him.

“About a month,” I said quietly. This elicited another string of curses from Cassian, and a look of surprise crossed over Mor’s face, there and gone again in an instant. Rhys gently reached out and squeezed my shoulder, though I could tell it weighed heavily on him, could see the panic that still lingered in his eyes.

It was Cassian who broke the silence, asking quietly, low and almost guttural, “If that piece of trash hurt you…” he trailed off. I had never seen him like this. I had seen him cocky and swaggering, and I had seen him angry, but I had never seen him so violent and volatile as he seemed in this moment. Rhysand reached out and laid a hand on his forearm. 

“Cassian,” he said, forcing him to meet his eyes. “She is fine. The baby is fine.” I watched as both Cass and Az visibly deflated at that, as if they had been balloons filled with worry and someone had poked a hole in the side. I knew they both felt strongly about me, as Rhysand’s mate, but I had never seen them act so… protective of me. Cassian seemed to read what was written on my face.

“Before you left, we didn’t know you were High Lady. In our eyes, you two still belonged solely to each other. But now… Now you are _ours_ , all of ours. And you are carrying the heir to this territory inside you, and there is nothing, _nothing_ I would not do to protect that. To protect you.” I was taken aback by the force with which he said the words, but I just nodded, letting the full weight of what he had just said settle over me like a blanket. These people I had grown to care for, grown to love… These people were truly my family, through the thick and thin of it, to whatever end.

“Well, now that business is settled,” Mor cut through the heavy silence, “we can celebrate!” The look Rhys threw her was positively wicked, but she went on before he could interject. “Yes, yes, I know, wars to plan and battles to prepare for, that’s all well and fine, but that shouldn’t overshadow the other important things that are happening in our lives, such as that fact that you two are going to be parents!” She was practically radiating enthusiasm, and it was infectious. 

I looked at her and smiled, but it was Azriel who offered, “Congratulations. To the both of you.” Something that I couldn’t name shown in his eyes as his gaze slid between the two of us, but settled on Mor. She didn’t notice, but I could tell that Rhysand did. 

But he just kissed my cheek before he drew himself up a little straighter and said, “There are other matters at hand that we need to discuss.”

“Why are you always the first one to ruin a nice moment?” Mor whined, but settled back into her chair sullenly, resigned to whatever it was he was going to say.

“I’ve been speaking to my contacts in the Day and Dawn courts, as well as a few eyes Azriel maintains in the Winter court. They are willing to offer troops to the cause, pending further discussion, which means that at some point we will have to gather in a secure location to discuss troop movements.” As he spoke, I could see the general’s mask sliding onto his face, the face of a warrior who had fought in and survived one war already. “As for the Summer Court, from what we have gathered, they have a considerable army preparing to fight and an even larger navy. But I have no way of knowing whether or not they are willing to cooperate with us, especially after the stunt we pulled last time we visited.” I saw the strain that flickered in his eyes as he said it, and knew it had hurt him to be forced to betray Tarquin’s trust.

Cassian offered, “The Illyrian troops are readying for battle in the Steppes, gathering their forces. They will be ready to fly in a week, possibly two.” As he said this, my eyes snagged on Amren as an unfamiliar look passed over her face, there and gone in an instant. She was hard to read, but it almost looked as if she was hiding something. Cassian had launched into the specifics of what would need to be provided to the Illyrians as they readied themselves for war, but I cut him off, my eyes never leaving Amren’s face.

“What is it. What do you know.” I said it flatly, not so much a question, because questions would get you no where with her.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about, and you’d be wise to mind you’re manners. You’ve interrupted dear Cassian.” But if I wasn’t certain before, her eagerness to change the subject confirmed for me that there was something she wasn’t telling us. Rhysand seemed to sense it too, because he said, “Tell us what you’re hiding Amren.” She met his eyes, that otherworldly mist shrouding her irises swirling violently, and I could see that they were having a wordless conversation, possibly inside their minds. Finally, she sat back in her chair with an exasperated sigh.

“I have been… Corresponding with Varian since our visit to the Spring Court.” When she did not offer anything further, I prompted her.

“And what have you learned from this correspondence?” Her eyes sliced a gaze to me, sharp as daggers, but I held my ground.

“He has been speaking to Tarquin about our position regarding them. He believes he can convince the High Lord to join our cause, uniting our troops if only for the sake of this territory.” She pursed her lips in a tight line, and I could tell that she did not like sharing this information.

“Why is it you felt the need to withhold this?” Rhysand asked her bluntly, not bothering to edge around it.

“Becaues Varian believes that if you attempt to reach out to Tarquin, he will be insulted, or worse yet, feel threatened, in which case all hopes at an alliance will be shattered. And knowing you, you will try to reach out to him and cajole him to join us, even if it will not mend the rift between our two courts. So I had promised Varian that I would keep this information to myself until he was certain that Tarquin had made his decision, in which case you would have heard directly from him.” She paused for a minute before continuing. “I trust you will not be foolish enough to try to reach out to him, even after learning this.”

Rhys paused, looking torn. After a minute, his face hardened, and I could tell he had reached a decision. “You know as well as I do how pressed for time we are. With Hybern rallying his forces and the fact that he has the Cauldron and the humans on his side, I give him a month, two tops, before he makes his first move. We would be wise to try and strike before then, or at the very least, we will need to be prepared for when he does strike. So I will give Tarquin three weeks to get his act together and make up his mind, but I will not wait any longer.” It was obvious from the way that he said it that his resolve was solid, and there was no changing his mind about this. Amren simply nodded her head, not offering another word.

The room was quiet for a moment before Azriel asked, “And what of Lucien Vanserra? What role does he play in all of this? Are we so certain his loyalties do not still lay with the Spring Court?” All eyes turned to me as he said this. I was the one who had brought him here, and I was the one who knew him best.

“I believe he can be trusted. More than that, I believe he will remain loyal to us, so long as Elain is here, possibly beyond that. I say that we offer him to opportunity to join us, and if he refuses, we keep him here until after the war has ended.”

“As a prisoner?” Mor asked, looking slightly horrified.

“As a guest, and one who knows far more about our court than anyone who is roaming outside our borders in wartime ought to know. Information is a dangerous thing, and while I believe he will join us, if we deem him to be untrustworthy it would be risky to release him back into the world to do what he will with the information he may have gathered while he was here,” I countered, and the others nodded their agreement, even Mor. With the matter settled, at least for the time being, Cassian, Az, and Rhys delved back into the specifics of what was necessary to prepare us. Mor and Amren often contributed helpful information, but I sat back and observed for most of the meeting. I was the only one of us who hadn’t lived through the last war, and was far less skilled in the art of warfare than the others. While it made more sense for me to mostly observe, it was also infuriating to not have more to contribute. It felt like I was falling short in my duties as High Lady, as one who should be helping to lead our people.

An hour or two later, Cassian was discussing troop movements and what it would take to gather all the Illyrian camps together, when he was interrupted by the loud gurgling of my stomach rumbling. I hadn’t even realized that I was hungry, but the jarring noise brought me back to myself enough to glean that I was indeed famished.

“Excuse me,” I said to the others, and made a move to get out of bed, but Rhysand was already there, laying a gentle but firm hand on my shoulder.

“Bed rest, remember? We can continue this meeting later.” He said, more in the directions of the others, who nodded their agreement.

“I don’t want to stop you. You should keep discussing. These things are important and they need to get sorted sooner rather than later,” I said, hating the feeling that I was a burden to this discussion.

But it was Cassian who smiled softly and said, “A war doesn’t get planned and prepared for all in the span of a day. We can discuss this more later.” Then he waved goodbye and peeled off from the group, making for the doorway. The others followed suit, waving their goodbyes and heading for the exit.

When they had all left I slumped back down in my pillows, realizing that for the little that I had done all day, I was still exhausted and starving. “Is there anything you need?” Rhys asked me gently. 

I hated having to rely on him for something as simple as getting myself a meal. “I can get it myself. I’m fine.” I made a move to get up again, but he caught me chin and brought my gaze up to meet his.

“Feyre, really. You know you’re not supposed to be out of bed, and you’re obviously hungry. I am too. Why don’t I get us some dinner?” I held his gaze but couldn’t bring myself to say anything more, so I simply nodded my head. He ducked out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar, and returned several minutes later, two steaming plates in hand.

We ate out dinner together, talking some, but I knew he could tell how tired I was. I must have looked as awful as I felt. After we finished the meal, he removed our dished and then settled down in bed beside me, wrapping his arms around my back and curving his wings over us, forming a silky soft cocoon. As I lay there, wrapped in his warmth, I listened to the sounds of his breathing even out as he fell into a deep sleep, but could not seem to find my own slumber. I couldn’t seem to escape the thought that kept circling my head, round and round, until there was nothing else inside my brain. Even as I finally drifted off to sleep, the feeling lingered with me. That dreaded feeling that the farther into my pregnancy I got, the more I would weigh the others down.


	19. Acclimation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life in the Night Court continues, but stress weighs heavy on everyone's shoulders as preparations for the war continue. Feyre finally confronts Nesta.

Once my required bed rest was over, reacclimatizing to moving about was a somewhat odd experience. In the three days that I had been bedridden, I had begun to notice the small bump on my stomach was growing, and when I was finally able to be on my feet again, it was almost as if my center of gravity had shifted. It was an awkward feeling, to say the least.

Time began to pass swiftly, preparations for the war taking over most of our time. I didn’t see my sisters much; occasionally I would run into Nesta in passing and we would exchange terse, awkward greetings, but nothing more. I knew I needed to talk to her, but I just couldn’t bring myself to approach her after what she had said. I made a point of going to check on Elain every few days, but nothing seemed to change, and nothing I did was helping. It was almost as if the more time that passed, the further into herself she withdrew. I feared for the day she might curl so far in on herself that we would never be able to retrieve her. Feared that maybe that day had already passed, and we would never know.

Before long, three weeks had come and gone, and we were forced to make the decision of whether or not to extend an olive branch to Tarquin, fearing he might retaliate if we did. We gathered one night over dinner to discuss what we should do about the matter. I was growing more and more every day, and felt somewhat awkward having to ask Rhysand to carry me up to the House of Wind where we were to meet, embarrassed that I might be too heavy for even him. After all, I was nearly four months pregnant. As we reached the roof of the townhouse and he saw my face, I knew he could also read what was inside my mind. And when he did, he laughed outright.

Shame stained my face a furious shade of scarlet, but he just took my hand in his and said, still laughing, “Feyre, you haven’t gained that much weight. Of course I can still carry you. And besides, it’s a good thing that you’re growing. It means our child is healthy.” At that moment, a thought occurred to me that I had pondered in the past but had fallen to the wayside in recent days.

“While that may be true… I think I should learn to fly. By myself,” I clarified. He looked stunned but also delighted at the prospect. “I can summon wings, that much is true. Now I just have to learn to use them,” I said. He smiled at me, brushing my cheek, and I leaned in and placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“That is a wonderful idea, and a practical one, too. But…” he trailed off, and I knew I was not going to like what he was about to say. “The process of learning to fly is rough. Mentally and physically. Illyrians learn to fly at such a young age that the fear of heights is long gone by the time we learn to understand what it really is. Trying to get airborne, learning to read the currents and stay aloft… It involves a lot of falling before you get it right. And crashing into trees. And rocks. And a whole host of other things. I just worry that…” And there it was. Yet another thing that wasn’t safe for me to do because I was pregnant.

I understood where he was coming from; I really did. And I didn’t want to do anything reckless that would endanger my child’s life. But that didn’t make it any easier to hear. It was such a frustrating prospect that it took all my self control not to start tugging on my hair and screaming. I added that to the ever-growing list of things that I was no longer able to do.

“Feyre—,” he started, but I cut him off with a wave of my hand.

“It’s fine. I understand. Can we just go?” He eyed me warily but nodded his head in assent, not saying anything as he wrapped his arms around me as he scooped me up, lifting off into the sky. The night air was cool and peaceful around us, and I couldn’t help but envy Rhysand as his powerful wings carried us up to the House of Wind.

When we landed on the balcony, Rhys kept his arms wrapped around me, tugging me back to his chest and spinning me around to face him.

“Are you all right?” he asked me, concern flashing in those beautiful violet eyes.

“I’m fine,” was all I said, even though we both knew it wasn’t true. “We should go meet the others.” I pulled myself from his embrace and made my way across the deck, pushing open the glass doors and walking inside the cavernous space. The ceiling of the dining hall was so high you could scarcely see it, especially at night when the room was only lit by the soft glow of candles, casting it in a shadowy relief. Despite the formal dining table surrounded by high-backed wooden chairs, all fitted to accommodate wings, the room felt rather… Informal. Lived-in. Almost homey. The rugs adorning the floor were elegant, but slightly threadbare, the shades that hung in front of the window lavish, but worn soft from the number of hands that had opened and shut them. It was a space I loved spending time in — a space that felt like family, like home.

The others had already arrived, having not waited for us to start serving themselves. I heard the door shut behind me as Rhysand made his way into the room. When Mor saw me, she practically dropped the serving spoon she was holding in her rush to push back her chair and make her way over to me.

“By the Cauldron, Feyre, look at you, you’re practically glowing!” She exclaimed excitedly, taking in my slightly larger form.

“I think that’s probably just sweat, Mor,” I countered. She brushed the comment aside, either pretending not to hear it or not caring, and drew me into a hug.

“Well,” Cassian called out from the table. “You certainly look… larger,” he commented. Amren reached across the table to elbow him in the side and he yelped.

“Wow, you know Cass, I hadn’t noticed,” I replied sarcastically. “I guess that’s what happens when you’re _growing a person,_ ” I sniped with a pointed look in his direction. That shut him up quickly.

“You look wonderful,” Mor said, guiding me over to the table to sit next to her. Rhysand found a spot next to Cassian, right across from me, and gave him a look that said he should be very careful with his next words. But even from where I sat, I could see the humor that danced in his eyes, the playfulness in face.

“So,” Cassian said, interrupting the sound of forks and knives scraping on plates. “Have you given any thought to —,” he started, but was interrupted by the sound of the door at the other end of the hall opening. Nesta pushed past it.

And stopped dead when she saw us.

She was wearing a tight velvet dress of midnight blue. It shimmered and swayed in the low lighting, making it look like she was clothed in flowing water. A wicked gleam entered Cassian’s eyes when he saw her, and I knew we were in for trouble. “Care to join us?” Was all he said, gesturing to the empty seat on his right.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize anyone would be in here,” she said curtly, turning to leave.

“Nonsense,” Cassian continued, poking the bear. “You’re here now. Why don’t you stay for dinner?” She looked as if she would rather go swimming with a school of sharks. “I insist,” Cassian prodded. She looked torn, but reluctantly made her way across the room and claimed the empty seat, pointedly edging it away from Cassian. She began serving herself and the silence at the table resumed.

With all that was unresolved between us, I remained silent, unsure of what I should say, if anything at all. The tension in the room was palpable, the silence an awkward sound buzzing in my ears.

“Where did you get that marvelous dress?” Mor said, indicating what Nesta was wearing. Nesta paused, fork half way to her mouth, leveling a gaze at Mor that would send most people running in the opposite direction.

“I found it,” was all she said. Clearly any of the happiness I had seen last time I had visited with her was gone, or was reserved just for me. The conversation fell flat again, and we ate in silence for a few moments before Rhysand brought up the reason we had all gathered in the first place.

“We need to decide what to do about Tarquin. The time has long passed for him to contact us. Every day we wait is another day that Hybern could attack, catching us unawares. Tarquin of all people should know that. Now that the Spring Court lands are at our enemy’s disposal, his territory is in a precarious position.” I noticed how he pointedly avoided saying Tamlin’s name, as if it were something foul he refused to sully his mouth with.

“If we confront him outright there is no telling how he will react. It is just as likely that he has not reached out because he does not intend to, and any attempts on our part to bridge the gap would be spit on by them. Or worse,” Amren countered. 

Mor offered up, “We know we need to meet with our allies — that much is evident if we are to present a united front. Why not extend the invitation to Tarquin, not just to meet with us, but to meet with all three solar courts and the Winter court. That way he won’t feel singled out, and is more likely to be swayed by our cause when he sees the support we have garnered.”

“We would need to send out messages immediately,” Rhysand continued, picking up the thread. “Pick a neutral location to meet, keep it all under lock and key. Az, I’d need your shadows to help deliver the letters.” A dip of Azriel’s chin confirmed that he would get them there, un-compromised.

“I can start on the letters now,” Mor said, having finished her meal. She pushed back her chair and made her way across the room to a low laying table that contained stacks of parchment, a quill, and ink.

“I can help. I’ve been talking to Varian — I know what Tarquin will want to hear,” Amren said, making for the table where Mor had picked up the quill and a sheet of paper. Having reached an agreement on how to proceed, I asked Rhys down the bond, _Should we stay or go?_ He glanced around the room, taking in the tension brewing between my sister and Cassian, the way Azriel was beginning to retreat into his shadows, and said, _Go._

I stood from the table, using my chair to help me get to my feet, and noticed Nesta’s eyes instantly drawn to my growing stomach. As I stood, I realized that I needed to relieve myself and said to Rhys, “I’m going to use the restroom. I’ll be back in a minute.” He nodded at me and I turned, making for the far end of the room where a door opened into the mountain.

I heard a chair scraping against the floor behind me, and then Nesta said, “I need to use the restroom as well. I’ll come with you.” I caught Rhysand’s eye as he made a move toward me, as if he were going to accompany me just to protect me from my sister, and shot down the bond sharply, _I can still take care of myself just fine. It’s not like she’s going to hurt me. I’ll be back in a few minutes._ Then I turned and pushed through the doors. It wasn’t until I reached the end of the hallway and was about to turn left into the water closet that I heard her footsteps following me. Stopping, I opened the door and looked at her pointedly, then went in, waiting for her to follow. She and I had seen each other naked plenty of times when the three of us had all shared one room, so using the bathroom in front of her wasn’t something I balked at.

Even so, she waited a full minute before following me in, as if she had to work herself up to face me, and by the time she entered I was already washing my hands. I looked up and caught her reflection in the mirror, the room silent save for the running water. I finished up, turning off the faucet and wiping my hands on a soft grey towel, before I turned to face her. I remained silent, waiting for her to make the first move.

“I see you’ve… decided to go through with your pregnancy,” was all she said.

“It was never a decision. If this is what you want to talk about then you can find someone else to have this conversation with,” I said shortly, making for the door. She caught me with a hand on the shoulder, but averted her gaze. Still, she did not say anything. “Nesta,” I prompted, “what happened? Have I done something to offend you? You seemed happy enough to see me when I first returned home, and your opinions on my being pregnant aside, now is not the time to be shutting me out. At the very least, we should be cooperating for Elain’s sake. She needs both of us right now.”

She was silent for a moment before responding. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just been… hard for me. Adjusting to all of this. Coming to terms with the fact that I can never have my old life back. And in this new one, I’m all but useless. I’m no help to you in this war — if anything, I’m a liability. I can’t even help my sisters. Either of them. So forgive me for being a little bit prickly.”

“Nesta, you are certainly not useless, and far from a liability. If you were willing to help us, I think you could be an extremely valuable asset to this court. All you have to do is say the word,” I said softly. Then, “But I understand how you feel.” I gestured to my pregnant belly to show that the feeling of uselessness was mutual. “Don’t forget, I was turned too. I know what it’s like, and I’m here to talk, if you need me.”

“Don’t pretend to know what I went through,” she said sharply. “What happened to you was something completely different. This was something you wanted. And now you’re going to have your own little happy family, so don’t pretend to understand how I feel. Don’t pretend that you’re not happy.” I was taken aback at her words, at her vicious tone.

“I may not understand what happened to you — no one but you and Elain will ever really know what happened inside that Cauldron. And I may have wanted to be changed more than you did, but that doesn’t mean that I didn’t have my own emotional turmoil to work through after it happened to me. When Rhysand saved me from the Spring Court the first time, I was so depressed that I wasn’t eating. I wasn’t sleeping. I wasn’t really _living_ — I was a shell of a person _._ I was wasting away, and only turning to those who cared about me for support helped me to heal. So what I’m saying that I am here for you, if or when you are ready to talk.” I laid my palms out, face up. Placating. Pleading. “I’m here for you, Nesta.” She finally met my gaze. Nodded her head.

“Thank you,” was all she said before pushing past me and into the hall. With those two words, it felt as if we had reached some kind of tentative truce. Like maybe we were finally on even footing. Following her suit, I pushed open the door and made my way out into the hall. By the time I was through the doors into the dining hall, Nesta was already long gone in the other direction. When I walked in, a muscle flickered in Rhys’s jaw. His keen, observant eyes looked up me and down from head to toe, assessing; once he determined me unharmed, his face relaxed. Cassian raised his eyesbrows, as if shocked to see that we hadn’t clawed each other to pieces, but Mor just looked up at me from where she was drafting the letters and winked. I offered her a small smile before making my way across the room and taking my mate’s hand, bidding the others farewell. 

Rhys gripped me tightly as we soared through the dark, the lights in the sky winking around us as those of the city below twinkled in echo. From the look on his face, I knew better than to say anything. Who knew what this whole situation was doing to his protective instincts. I knew he was fighting those primal urges, but it took something out of him to have to war with himself in such a manner. I just gripped him tightly back, squeezing his shoulder to let him know I was there for him. His eyes drifted down to meet my gaze and softened at the gesture. When his feet made contact with the ground again, he set me down gingerly. I made to walk inside, but he gripped my hand and pulled me back to him, tucking me in tightly. He pinned my hand to his chest, using his other hand to gently take hold of my chin and tilt it up towards him. Slowly, he placed a soft kiss to my lips. He didn’t say anything, just held me there, my hand over his beating heart, his wings cocooned around us. 

When at last he tore his mouth from mine, I silently turned towards the door, keeping his hand in mine. I knew what he needed — what we both needed. We needed freedom from all of our problems and worries and stress. Needed release. Needed connection. When we reached the door to our bedroom, I turned to face him. His gaze pinned me to the wall. And then his hands were on my hips, pressing me against the hard wood, and his tongue was in my mouth, and this was all I needed, now and forever. My hands wrapped around his neck, in his hair, on his cheeks. He pulled my shirt over my head, then stopped. Looked my up and down. Looked atmy full breasts, my swollen belly. Looked into my eyes. And then he was upon my again, the stubble on his chin rough against my skin, even as his hands were achingly gently, so, so careful of the life balanced between us. 

The tension built and built, the burning in my core an aching that needed to be unleashed, and I was about to beg him to just take me against the door, gods be damned, when a sound from downstairs startled me out of my lust filled stupor. Rhys jerked back, instantly defensive. But a knock sounded from the door, and we both released a collective sigh of relief.

“Who would show up unannounced at such an hour?” I asked him as I pulled my shirt back over my head and smoothed my hair.

“You don’t remember?” he inquired, seeming put off.

“Remember what?” Was there something important I had forgotten? I searched the depths of my brain, looking for clues as to what I might be missing, and came up empty.

“You have an appointment tonight. With the healer.” He said it softly, as if disbelieving that I had forgotten.

Oh. _Oh._ With everything that had been going on, it had completely slipped my mind. I told him as much, and he just nodded his head and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before calling out, “We’ll be right down,” and making for the stairs. I could see that it weighed on him, that I had forgotten something important regarding our child, that I had let it be overshadowed by everything else going on around us. Knew it made him feel as if I didn’t consider our daughter a priority, when the truth of the matter was that she was all I _ever_ considered. He tried to understand, but I knew there was no way he could. No way he could comprehend that everything I did, every movement I made or thought I had or breath I took revolved around her. She was a part of me, a living, breathing entity growing inside me. There was no way I could forget. And there was also no way I was going to let it consume my life — not when so many people needed me for so many things besides this. This was one thing I needed to do — one on an ever growing list of things that I needed to do and be. And I knew that he could not understand that, because this was _everything_ to him.

I sighed, turning for the stairs and plodding down to the first floor where Rhys was ushering in a young man carrying a satchel full of supplies. The man had a dark complexion, short, dirty-blonde hair, and golden hazel eyes that glowed in the dim lighting. They exchanged hushed greetings, and then the man turned to me, his lion’s eyes lighting up.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Feyre,” I held out my hand and he took it in greeting.

“I would say it’s nice to meet you too, Lady Feyre, but we have actually already met.” He must have seen the surprise and embarrassment on my face because he hurried on, “You weren’t conscious for our last meeting. So, technically, I’ve met you, but you haven’t met me. My name is Andros.” He had a charmingly lilting accent, and a jovial expression on face that caused his eyes to crinkle at the corners.

“Then I guess it’s nice to meet you properly, Andros.” I said, and motioned him out of the entryway and into the main living space. “So, you’re here to check on the baby? Forgive me, I’ve never done this before. I’m not really certain how it works.”

He just chuckled a little before saying, “Yes, I’m here to see how you and your little girl are progressing and make sure there are no complications. You should be about four months along now, is that correct?” I nodded as he motioned for me to lay down on a couch. I hesitated briefly before sitting down and swinging my feet up. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to my stomach, and I nodded my ascension before pulling up the hem of my shirt to reveal my ever-growing stomach. He placed his hands on either side of my naval — they were surprisingly warm and gentle, careful not to apply too much pressure or cause me any discomfort. Cauldron knew that I was already experiencing enough of that as it was. He closed his eyes, a placid look akin to concentration but somehow deeper, more grounded, crossing over his face. He stayed like that for several long minutes. Unsure of what I was supposed to do, if anything at all, I caught Rhysand’s gaze over Andros’s shoulder. He gave me a reassuring smile, easing the my jittery nerves.

Finally, a short eternity later, Andros rocked back on his heals and made his way to his feet. I moved to do the same, but he motioned for me to stay where I was. I pushed myself into a sitting position before looking up at him expectantly, wondering what he had found.

“You’re little girl is perfectly healthy. Strong heartbeat, growing as expected, ” he said, and the words sent a surge of relief through me. I hadn’t even realized how worried I had been until he spoke. But something in his face made me stop before completely relaxing. “How are you feeling?” he continued. “Have you been getting enough rest, eating properly?” I nodded, not missing the way Rhys wouldn’t meet my eyes as I did. Andros looked at me skeptically, then looked to Rhys for confirmation. 

He was silent for a moment before he said, “Sometimes… She overdoes it. She pretends she feels fine when she doesn’t. She forgets to eat because she gets so wrapped up in doing something. Or she’s exhausted, but she won’t rest because she’s so hell bent on finishing whatever it is she’s working on.” I knew he was observant, but I didn’t realize he was so in tune with me, with everything I felt. As if sensing my confusion, he turned to me. “I can feel it. Through the bond.” Even so, if I didn’t think I was pushing myself to far, who was he to draw that conclusion? I knew my body — knew its limitations. As far as I was concerned, I was doing a fine job of keeping myself healthy.

But when Andros nodded his head as if this was confirmation of his own suspicions, it led me to wonder if maybe I had been pushing myself too far. Cauldron knew, with everything that was going on, it would have been easy to let concern for myself fall to the wayside. “I know that you are doing a better job of taking care of yourself than when we first met, but you still aren’t giving your body all the rest it needs. And when you forget to eat, you aren’t hurting your baby, you’re hurting yourself. Your daughter will take the nutrients she needs from your body, but if you don’t eat enough, what she needs to grow will be taken out of what you need to keep yourself healthy. I worry that you haven’t gained as much weight as you should have — the baby is growing at the proper rate, but you aren’t.” I was surprised by his words, by the concern that tightened my mate’s features. Couldn’t believe I had been so oblivious.

“But this isn’t going to affect my child’s health?” I asked, still concerned despite him assuring me she was healthy.

“It hasn’t affected her yet, but if you keep going this way, it could. You need to remember to eat and rest enough. Your body is working overtime, and if it is going to be able to sustain two people, it needs your help. I’m going to leave you with a list of things you can do to help maintain proper nutrition, as well as a tonic that can help to boost your health and immune system. I will write out the instructions for administering that as well.” He reached into his satchel and drew out a pen and parchment, beginning to scrawl a list on the page. He wrote with his left hand, I noticed.

When he had finished, he handed me the list and a small glass bottle filled with amber liquid and told me to contact him with any further questions or concerns. Then he swiftly made his departure, mentioning something about needed to see to another patient. I couldn’t imagine who he would be attending to this late at night, but we bade him farewell and watched as he passed out the door and into the cool night air. I sat there on the couch for a moment, absorbing all that he had said, before Rhys offered my a hand up.

“Would you like to go to bed?” He asked as I took his hand and used to to aid in the considerable amount of effort it took to haul myself upright. I nodded my head and we both made for the stairs. By the time we reached our room, a wall of exhaustion had hit me, making me sluggish. I made for the bed, discarding my clothes along the way, and pulled a nightgown out of my armoire and over my head. By the time I was under the covers, curled against Rhys’s chest, I felt ready to collapse from exhaustion.

“You can tell me, you know,” he said, breaking the silence. “When you’re feeling tired. When you need a break. If you need to eat. It’s nothing you need to hide. I just… Want to be able to help you. But I need you to let me.”

“I know,” I said against his chest, the beating of his heart against my cheek steadying me. “I just… Get caught up in things. Lose track of time. I forget. Or I ignore it. I’m sorry,” I finished, looking up into his beautiful star-flecked eyes.

“Hush,” he said gently. “It’s nothing you need to apologize for. Just something we can work on. I’ll help you try to remember. We can work on it together.” I nodded, my cheek rubbing against his bare chest.

As I drifted off into oblivion, I head him whisper against the top of my head, “I love you.” And then sleep dragged me under like a vicious tide, drowning me in its depths.


	20. The Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elain makes progress. Hybern launches his first attack.

The next few days felt tense — apprehensive. Waiting to see how Tarquin and the other High Lords would react to our request for a meeting left everyone on edge. Several days after my appointment with the healer, I decided to go visit Elain. I asked Nesta to join me and she agreed, telling me to meet her there at noon. With several hours to kill, I set out into the city, not particularly sure what I was in search of, but needing to get out of the house. I was surprised when people recognized me in the streets, but through whatever back channels Rhys had he must have told people around the city who I was, because I received many greetings and congratulations on my pregnancy. As I wound my way through the streets, drinking in the beauty if Velaris, I found somehow myself in the artists quarter — the Rainbow. I didn’t remember consciously deciding to go there; my feet had taken me of their own accord.

I walked lazily, unhurriedly through the streets, passing by galleries and specialty shops full of beautiful works of art for sale. The longer I walked, the more my resolve to keep this place of beauty untouched, untainted by the blackness of the world outside out cities walls strengthened. I would fight until my dying breath to keep these people — my people — safe, I realized. I would sacrifice my own life with no qualms as long as this place where art thrived and children laughed in the streets would continue to exist. I would fight to make a better world — for these people, and for my daughter.

I let the vibrant colors and sounds and smells of the city wash over me as I made my way in a loop that eventually brought me back to my front door. Pushing inside, I saw Cassian hovering in the entryway.

“Rhys has been called away on urgent business,” Cassian said by way of greeting. “Before you ask what —,” he said, holding up a hand to silence me, “I don’t know. He didn’t tell me. Only said that you were going up to the house to visit your sisters, and that I was to escort you and stay up there with you all until he returned.” The fact that he had been forced to leave in such a hurry he hadn’t even had time to tell me left a knot of worry in my stomach. Cassian seemed to sense this because he said, more gently, “I’m sure he’s fine. He promised to be back in a few hours.” His words eased some of the fear I felt, but not as much as I would have liked. 

“Thank you,” I said. “For telling me. For coming to get me.” He simply nodded his head and held out his hand in invitation. I took it and followed him up onto the roof.

After flying us up to the House, Cassian deposited me on the deck and then disappeared quickly into the interior of the house, claiming he had business to attend to. My suspicion was that he really just wanted to avoid an untoward encounter with Nesta, but I let him go without saying anything. When I walked inside, Nesta was already waiting for me. We exchanged terse but not unfriendly greetings before making our way down the hall, down several flights of stairs, and finally coming to rest outside the door to Elain’s bedroom. I stood back a ways, the same uneasy feeling that always overcame me when I went to visit my sister creeping over me as we stood there. Nesta seemed to have no reservations, however, and walked into Elain’s room with no hesitation. I followed her in on silent feet, staying a few feet behind.

Elain was sitting where she always did at the window, her skin looking even paler than the last time I saw her. Her figure looked frail, stick thin, and her bones were beginning to jut out at sharp angles as a result of her malnutrition. It sent a shiver down my spine, made me sick to my stomach to see her like that, wasting away in a place where she was just out of reach. Nesta had already pulled up a chair beside her and I followed suit, settling in beside my two sisters.

“Elain?” Nesta asked cautiously. Elain was the only person to whom Nesta had ever shown real kindness, the only person she allowed herself to be tender and gentle around. Nesta would go to the ends of the earth for our sister, and I knew it pained her to be helpless like this.

“Elain, are you there?” I tried, already sensing an overwhelming wave of failure looming on the horizon. There was no way this was going to help — I had been a fool to even think to try. We sat there for a while, trying to jog her with memories of our childhood, speaking in hushed tones as if we were trying to calm a spooked animal. Elain remained impassive the whole time, and I could tell as the minutes wore on that Nesta was getting discouraged.

I was in the middle of recounting the time Elain had bought me a set of paints and I had painted our entire cottage with decorations when a fluttering feeling in my stomach gave me pause. I stopped mid sentence, putting my hand on my stomach. Nesta looked as if she were about to say something, but hesitated. I felt it again, stronger this time, pushing against my naval, and realized with a start that the baby was kicking. I thought immediately of Rhys and how he would want to feel it — and then an idea occurred to me. It was probably foolish, and even though everything thus far had failed, trying couldn’t hurt.

I reached out and gingerly grabbed Elain’s hand, her wrist limp in my grasp. I took her hand and carefully laid it on top of my stomach, right above the spot the baby was kicking. The room was deadly silent for a moment — I didn’t dare to breathe as I sat there, hoping maybe this would draw Elain out of wherever she was. 

“Elain,” I said, my voice just above a whisper. “It’s your niece. She’s kicking. Can you feel it?” I asked her hopefully. Several minutes past, and I was starting to get discouraged, when something changed. A subtle shift in her features — so minuscule I almost missed it. And then a light began to glow softly behind her eyes, emanated from her skin. It was concentrated around her hand where is rested on my stomach. And then she picked up her other hand and brought it to rest next to the first one. As soon as her second hand touched my stomach, a warm surety flooded through me, a feeling of safety and security. I closed my eyes in bliss, soaking in the feeling, before it started to fade.

I opened my eyes — to find Elain staring back at me. _My_ Elain, the real Elain, not a hollow shell of her. That was my sister looking at my through wide blue eyes, an awed expression on her face.

“I can… feel her,” she said, voice hoarse and cracking.

“Elain? Is that really you?” I whispered, not believing what I was seeing.

“Feyre?” she said, as if she was really seeing me for the first time. A strangled sob escaped my throat and I pulled her against me, embracing her fiercely. She tentatively closed her arms around me, and the gesture alone brought tears to my eyes. She was _talking._ She was _hugging me._ I felt another set of arms and knew Nesta was hugging her too.

I withdrew from the tangle of arms, Nesta doing the same, and wiped at my eyes. It was Nesta who spoke first.

“Where did you go? Where were you, Elain?” she asked, something like genuine pain flickering across her features, there and gone again in an instant.

“I don’t — I don’t know. I remember the cauldron. I remember going under and then —,” she choked off mid sentence, as if she couldn’t breathe. “The things I saw, under the water…” she visibly shuddered. “And then nothing. The next thing I remember was feeling _her_ ,” she gestured to my stomach. “Your daughter.” I was stunned.

“How?” Was all I could manage to get out. She just shook her head, indicating that she didn’t know either. “The only other person who can sense her like that is…” I trailed off, realization dawning on my. “My healer.” Elain just sat there, looking as stunned as I felt. Nesta directed her next question at me.

“What did you feel? When she was touching you, when she was glowing like that?” I paused, struggling to put the feeling to words.

“It felt like… Like safety. Like peace. Serenity,” I finished, finally finding the right word.

“After what happened in Hybern, Rhysand sent a healer to attend to me. To check for injuries. When she touched me, when she was assessing me, it felt like what you described. I didn’t see, but I’m willing to bet that it looked like that,” she said, indicating the way Elain had been glowing softly.

“So… You’re saying I can heal people?” Elain asked uncertainly.

“We’d have to test it out but… It’s possible,” I said, still in disbelief that I was finally talking to my sister again after all these months. She looked as if she were about to say something else when the pounding of heavy footsteps from the corridor drew our attention.

Rhys shouldered his way into the room, chest heaving, looking as if he had run all the way here. He was followed by Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Amren. I could tell from the look on his face that something was wrong. 

“There’s been an attack. A siege — on the Autumn Court. They’re holding the lines for now, but are calling us for reinforcements. They’ve put out requests for aid to all other courts.” He stopped, drawing in a gasping breath, and then seemed to really absorb the scene that had unfolded in before him. “Elain?” he asked, clearly confused.

“Finally back with you, it seems,” she croaked out meekly. He nodded his head, assessing her with a commander’s frankness, then seemed to toss this new revelation aside for a time when he could further examine it.

“Glad to hear it,” was all he said before continuing on. “We’ve waited too long — Hybern has made his first move. We need to send troops down to Beron’s territories immediately. Cassian, are the Illyrians ready to fly?”

“They’ve been battle ready for weeks. Az, I need to you winnow to the camps and alert them of our plans,” Cassian said. Azriel nodded his head, waiting for further direction from Rhys.

“Are you so sure we should even be helping them? Consider whether or not they would help us, were they in our position,” Mor said, her voice sharp and edged. She knew better than anyone in this room just how cruel those in the Autumn Court would be.

“The odds are that they wouldn’t,” Rhys said frankly. “But that doesn’t mean that I am content to sit idly by while innocent people are slaughtered. Now, you are welcome to stay behind — I would understand, and no one would question that decision,” he said, and I knew he meant it. “But were are sending troops, and we will help to fight in this battle. Now, more than ever, we need to band the courts together against Hybern. Nothing can do that like a show of good faith.” He said it with such a finality that I knew the matter was settled, and the others nodded their heads, seemingly in agreement with his decision.

“How do you plan to get them there in time?” Amren asked pointedly. “And who will be left to defend Velaris if we are all gone?”

“I can winnow them all in,” Rhys said. “It will be a strain, but I can get them all there. As for defending the city, Amren, I am going to send a small squadron to fly here and keep watch over it. Until they arrive, you will stay behind and hold the city.” She just nodded, giving her ascension. Rhys turned his attention to Az. “You have your orders. Gather them and make sure they’re ready. We will be along within the hour.” Az gave him the slightest dip of his chin before disappearing into a swirling mass of shadows.

“Rhys,” Cassian said, drawing his attention. “We need to talk to Lucien. He knows the Autumn court better than any of us. He will be able to provide us with tactical advantages.”

“You go talk to him. He’s coming with us.” Cassian barely waited until he was finished before exiting into the hallway and making for the stairs that would take him to Lucien’s room.

“Mor,” Rhys said, “Go get ready. We’re leaving in an hour.” She nodded and then disappeared, winnowing away. The room was silent for a moment, the only sounds our breathing and the rustle of Rhys’s wings as he rearranged them behind his back.

“I’m coming with you,” I said with as much force as I could. Like hell I was going to be left behind. The words brought a fleeting look of panic to his eyes, and I knew he didn’t like it, but he managed to nod his head. He knew better than to try and make me stay behind.

“All three of you are coming. The closer you are to us, the safer you are. You’ll stay behind at camp, though. You two,” he said to Nesta and Elain, “don’t know how to fight. You would be a liability, and I can’t imagine you wanting to engage in open combat anyways. As for you,” he said, turning his attention to me. “We need to talk.” I knew he was right, so I told my sisters to pack light, bring only what they needed, and then made my way out into the hallway, Rhysand close on my heals.

“Before you say anything,” I said, cutting him off before he could start. “I’m not stupid enough to suggest I go out onto the battle field and try to fight. I’m well aware of the restrictions my current position place on me. That doesn’t mean I’m going to sit idly by and do nothing”

“I know. I need you to help run the camp — direct the healers, make sure there are enough supplies on hand, and keep the people calm. Besides,” He said, catching my hand. “I want you to stay close. We aren’t going to be separated again, you hear me?” I nodded, gripping his hand firmly. He leaned his forehead down so it was touching mine, and I laid a hand on his cheek.

“If things go south, I want you to take your sisters, and I want you to run. You go to the Winter court. Find Viviane, the High Lord’s mate. You tell her who you are, and that you are seeking sanctuary, and she will take you in. You’ll be safe there,” he said in a way that made my heart crack. I was about to protest, but the look in his eyes cut me short. “Please,” he said, and I nodded my head, fighting back tears.

“We will make it through this, you hear me?” I said fiercely. “You and I, we’re survivors. You’re going to come back to me, and you’re be there when our daughter is born. Promise me.” I gripped either side of his face and he dropped his gaze down to my protruding stomach nestled between us, laying a hand on my belly.

“I promise you. We are going to be a family.” I leaned in and kissed him then, putting every ounce of my love and passion behind it, trying to convey everything I felt for him in a single kiss. I could tell he was doing the same.

Too soon, the moment was over, and we broke apart, heading down the hallway and towards an uncertain future.


	21. Trials and Tribulations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Combat ensues

Rhys sent Mor to winnow me and my sisters ahead to the camp that was already being set up skirting the edge of Beron’s palatial house. We could not see Hybern’s encampment from where we were situated, just above the valley floor where the battle had already begun, but I knew it couldn’t be far. I shuddered to think of what — _who_ — it might house. Didn’t let my mind dwell on the very likely possibility that just beyond the horizon, Tamlin was sitting in our enemy’s encampment, plotting ways to destroy us.

Out in the field, Beron’s men engaged the Hybern soldiers in open combat, sword against shield on a bloody battlefield that stretched as far as the eye could see. Beron’s men —a mixture of high fae and faeires — were clothed in a light, almost leather looking armor that seemed to be holding up surprisingly well against the onslaught of swords and spears and arrows being hurled against it. It was probably spelled with protection. They were holding their own against the enemy, but I could see them slowly being compressed back against the main bulk of Beron’s woodland estate. From the trees surrounding the house like towering guards keeping watch over the procession I could just make out Autumn Court archers firing flaming arrows with deadly precision into Hybern’s front lines of attack.

Advancing from the opposite side, Hybern’s forces were like an unending see of grey, a deluge pushing Beron’s forces back as they tried to break the line of offense. They stretched on for what seemed like miles. They were all wearing pewter grey suits of armor that shielded them from head to tow, making it impossible to tell what manner of faerie they were. What was obvious, however, was that they were a larger, better prepared army who was slowly but surely breaking down Beron’s defenses.

I could see my sisters beside me, staring at the battle, taking in the chaos surrounding us.A fist had clenched itself inside my stomach, knotting it tightly with worry. Rhys would be down there soon. I knew he was strong warrior, that he could hold his own, but… He would be drained from winnowing so many people. It made my heart ache to think about what he might have to endure down there on that battlefield. 

I pulled myself from my thoughts just in time to see someone, a commander, fall on the Autumn Court’s front lines. Like someone toppling the first domino, the whole front line began to cave inward, allowing an onslaught of Hybern’s forces to push their way into Barron’s, cleaving the first few lines apart. I sucked in a sharp breathe, watching as one by one, Barron’s men began to fall. If Rhys didn’t get here soon… There would be nothing left for him to defend. The battle would already be lost.

On the east horizon, a flicker of movement drew my attention. I couldn’t make out what it was — it looked almost like sunlight reflecting off of glass. And then a wave soldiers clad in shimmering blue armor surged over the lip of the valley, rushing into the fray just in time to keep Barron’s army from buckling. They ran onto Hybern’s army from the side, and the din of their clashing and battle cries could be heard even from out vantage point. The new forces were comprised of a mixture of high fae and faeries, many of which could only be described as amphibious looking, with scales and webbed fingers and toes and — did some of them have _gills?_

“Tarquin,” Mor breathed from beside me. With a start I realized those were Summer Court forces flooding the field, come to help defend their neighboring territory. “He came,” Mor said, almost in disbelief. But I believed it — I had met the man who commanded those armies. I knew he would not allow Hybern to win this war and conquer our territory while he sat back and did nothing. Several minutes passed as we watched the scene below us unfold and wrung our hands.

And then we heard a sound like the air around us had hollowed out, and a large black mass of winged bodies materialized on the edge of our camp. The Illyrian forces. They moved like a shroud of mist — almost as if they weren’t fully corporeal. At the head of the pack was Rhysand, leading the charge. He looked strained — pale and sweaty, out of breath — from the stress of transporting such a large group of people. But he began shouting orders, and soon half of the legion had taken to the skies, charging in just ahead of the terrestrial forces. Rhys was at the head of the earthbound pack, flanked on either side by Cassian and Azriel. Just as he was about to give the order for his forces to follow the airborne legion, he hesitated for just a second, his gaze flickering over his shoulder towards where I was standing.

We locked eyes for a split second, his gaze unreadable, before he turned back to the battlefield, shouting something at his men, and charged into the fray.


	22. Drained

The battle raged around us for hours. At some point Mor had left us to join the Illyrian legions, and I occasionally caught a glimpse of her blonde hair amongst the mud and blood and gore obstructing my view of the battlefield. She was fighting back to back with Azriel and Cassian.

Rhys moved through the legions like a shadow, like death given form. He flung out his power, taking down hundreds of men in a single blow, before turning and lashing out with his sword, spearing heads and guts and throats. His movements were fluid and graceful, but the brutality with which he struck was anything but. It was almost beautiful to watch.

The Illyrian legions far outstripped Hybern's forces in ability, and soon the tide of the battle had turned in our favor, with Hybern on the defensive, slowly being forced to retreat towards the opposite horizon.

I walked about the camp, helping people lug supplies and buckets of water, tending to the wounded who had been dragged off the field, helping to direct people. The whole time I never tore my eyes from the field, from my mate in the heart of the battle, pushing back enemy lines.

Dusk drew nearer and it was clear that we were winning. What had begun as a full scale siege had diminished to more of a skirmish, and eventually the remainder of Hybern’s forces were forced to surrendered. I wondered what would be done with the survivors — we didn’t have the capacity to hold prisoners in our camp, and I wasn’t sure if we would want to anyways. My question was answered as I watched our forces corral the enemy into a tight huddle, and then —

I stopped what I was doing, frozen in shock. The entire remaining enemy battalion had just _vaporized_ before my eyes. A red mist hung in the air where they had been, the only trace left of them. I realized with a start that Rhysand had misted them — all of them. A shudder wracked down my spine. I knew it was necessary, knew it had to be done, but that didn’t make it any easier to watch.

I eased myself away from the man I had been bandaging, the deep slice on his forearm now closed thanks to my own healing magic, and stood from the position I had been crouched in. As I did, a rush of dizziness overwhelmed me and I staggered back into something hard and unyielding — someone’s hands, keeping me from falling over. I turned to see that Elain, spattered in mud and wearing a torn, ragged dress, was holding me upright. I was about to say something, but she spoke first.

“How long has it been since you ate or drank something?” she asked kindly, noting the way I wobbled on my feet. I opened my mouth to respond but closed it just as swiftly, realizing I did not have an answer for her. She just took me by the arm and said, “Come with me to the mess tent. We’ll get you some food.”

“I need to see Rhysand first,” I protested, gently but firmly extricating my arm from her grasp.

“Rhysand is fine. Rhysand can wait. She can’t,” she said, indicating my stomach.

“I’ll eat something later. I promise. I don’t have time right now.” I pushed back, finding that all the blood and gore of battle had stolen my appetite, and that the need to eat was nothing compared to the need to go to my mate, make sure he was all right.

Elain looked like she was about to push harder, but she saw the resolve in my eyes and acquiesced. “At least drink some water,” she sighed, handing me the flask she was carrying. I took it from her and gulped down several mouthfuls of water, realizing I was indeed parched, before thanking her and and starting for the opposite end of camp where Rhys was just trudging in. She watched me go with an odd expression on her face, but said nothing as I made my way across the encampment. As I kept walking, practically running in my hurry to get to Rhys, his eyes lifted and he saw me, and then he was running towards me too. We collided in the middle of the camp as I pulled him into my arms, embracing him fiercely. He smelled like dirt and sweat and the sharp, metallic tang of blood. He hugged me back, careful not to put too much pressure on my stomach.

“Are you hurt?” I said against his neck.

“No. I’m fine. I missed you.” His voice was low and guttural, as if part of him was still out there on that battlefield. He pulled me closer, ignoring the stares we were getting from passerby, and pressed his nose to the top of my head, inhaling deeply.

“You came back to me,” I whispered. It came out almost like a sob, the wobble in my voice unmistakeable.

“Always, my love. I will always come back.”

Silently, Rhysand tucked me into his side, wrapping one hand protectively around my belly, a clear warning to all who saw us together. He was staking his claim — not in the sense that I belonged to him, but rather that we belonged to each other, and anyone who tried to harm me or come between us would not live to tell about it. I knew what me being pregnant in a war camp, surrounded by — for lack of a better word — a savage legion of Illyrian warriors was doing to his instincts. The need to protect was driving at him like a white hot poker sticking him between the eyes — I could feel it through the bond. I just slung and arm around his hips and pulled him closer to me, letting him know that we were safe — or as safe as we could be in the middle of a war — and that we were surrounded by his brethren, not our enemies.

The din of the war camp around us was near deafening, the shouts of injured soldiers piercing the darkening sky.

_Do you need anything?_ I asked him through the bond. _Food? Water? Rest?_ He shook his head.

_I have everything I could ever need right_ here, he responded, a sensual caress against my mental shields. He looked down at me then, taking in the dark circles under my eyes, my tired posture, the mud flecking my face and hands. My appearance seemed to draw him fully back into himself, as if he were finally leaving the battlefield for good.

“You must be tired, love,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. I waved away his concern.

“I’m fine. I’m not the one who has been fighting all day,” I said, feeling almost guilty as I did. He grabbed my chin and tilted my face up until I was meeting his eyes.

“None of that,” he said, almost fiercely. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. Even if you can’t be out on the field, engaging in open combat, you still play a vital part in this war. Each and every person here does. You don’t realize how important it is for people to see their High Lady here, down in the mud, treating wounded soldiers alongside them. How much it means to everyone in this camp that you are here helping. And besides,” he added with a touch of gentleness. “You have the most important job in the world. You are growing our little girl — keeping her safe. _That_ is what matters.” I knew there was gratitude shining in my eyes as I reached up on my toes and kissed him.

“Why don’t we go get some food,” he offered. “When was the last time you ate?” He seemed concerned, but I brushed it aside.

“I could ask the same of you,” I said as we steered our way through the camp towards the mess tent.

“Touché,” was all he said. We settled into a comfortable silence as we weaved passed people and tents, splattering mud on ourselves as we walked. I wanted to ask him if he was okay again — _really_ okay — not just physically, but mentally too. But it seemed like such a strange question to ask — of course he wasn’t fine. Nothing could erase what had just happened out there on that battlefield from his conscience, and I knew he would carry it with him for the rest of his life, just like he did with all of his other scars, silently bearing his burden and never asking for help.

As we reached the mess tent Rhys pushed the entry flap aside so I could enter first, ever the gentleman. A hush seemed to fall over the room as we entered, but the clatter of forks on plates and the chatter of people talking soon resumed. Rhys and I just made our way over to the long serving table, each of us heaping food onto our plates, before making our way to a quiet empty table in the corner. The din of the mess hall was enough to drown out my own thoughts. Finding that my appetite had returned, I shoveled food into my mouth, my stomach growling appreciatively. The day’s hard work coupled with the baby residing in my abdomen was enough to make me starving and exhausted, and as I consumed my meal I could feel sleep tugging at me.

The next thing I remembered was unfamiliar surroundings and darkness. Unsure of where I was, I jerked upright and looked around. I couldn’t see anything — it was pitch dark. Someone put a hand on my arm and I whipped my head towards them, confused. Rhysand’s sleep-glazed eyes pierced through the darkness, their familiarity causing me to relax back into a pile of pillows. How did I get here?

Reading my thoughts, Rhysand said, “You fell asleep at dinner. You practically face plantedinto your food. I had to carry you back to bed.” He brushed a calloused thumb down the curve of my jaw.

I laughed softly in the darkness. “Of course I did,” was all I said, settling back into bed, curling myself into Rhys’s side. He reached out a hand and pulled me tighter against him, resting one hand on the small of my back and placing the other on my stomach. “I didn’t realize how tired I was,” I admitted grudgingly.

“No one holds it against you, you know,” he said softly, caressing my abdomen. “Needing some extra breaks. Not being able to stay on your feet as long. A lot of the women in the camp have had children of their own — they understand. They would probably offer they help if you reached out,” he continued. I just nodded my head, too tired to follow this conversation to completion. We had already had it so many times, in so many different ways. I appreciated everything he said, understand where he was coming from and was grateful he was making an effort, but it did nothing to ease my feelings of uselessness. So I didn’t say anything, my energy all but drained, and pressed myself further into his side, hoping maybe I could just curl into him and let the world disappear. Soon enough, sleep dragged me back down and the world around me faded away, finally, blissfully. 


	23. A Meeting of the Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The High Lords meet to discuss their options

We received word the next morning that Hybern’s camp was gone — had up and vanished. It appeared that they had tucked tail and run as soon as the tide of battle had started to shift in our favor. With no idea where they had gone, Azriel had sent out scouts to investigate, and had been gone himself since well before dawn. What we had seen the day before had been a show of force — a warning that they were prepared, and that they had many more soldiers to spare. 

Rhys and I woke early, him going off to talk to some of his commanders while I was left to help pack up camp. With no fighting and no hostages, and the fact that the Autumn court’s territory was now in a relatively defensible position, there was no reason for us to stay here any longer. We would not return to Velaris, but instead would be moving our camp north, to the base of the Winter Court territory. We would be better prepared to stop Hybern’s northward progression if we stayed lower in the territory and were able to cut them off there.

As I was helping to bundle supplies, a young doe eyed girl who looked to be no more than twenty years old approached me nervously.

“My Lady?” she said. I was unused to being addressed in such a formal context, but I just nodded for her to continue. “The High Lord has dispatched me to retrieve you. He said something about a meeting he needed you to attend. It will take place in the interior of the palace — I am to escort you there now.”

“Thank you for coming to get me,” I said, unsure how to address her. “What’s your name?” 

“Katya, my Lady,” she said timidly.

“Well then, Katya, lead the way.” I gestured for her to lead and we began picking our way to the edge of the camp, then down the hill we resided atop and into the valley basin. Someone had taken care of the bodies of the fallen, burning or burying them, but the earth was scarred from battle and the dirt was still thick with the scent of blood. I covered my nose to keep from gagging. Soon, we had reached the outer wall of Beron’s sprawling, palatial woodland estate and were escorted inside by an armed guard. The interior of the palace was lavishly furnished, missing the homeyness and lived in feeling that all of our Night Court residences had. The rooms were bedecked in oranges, browns, and greens, giving the place an earthy feel, and indeed in some rooms it appeared as if there was no flooring at all — that the packed dirt of the ground had simply been built around. In these rooms you could sometimes find trees growing inside the palace, their leaves the golden and fiery colors of fall.

The rooms we passed through were bedecked in lush carpets, heavy drapes covering the many oddly shaped windows, and plush furniture, much of which had brass or gold adornments. This seemed like a place that you could get lost in if you didn’t want to be found, and I didn’t doubt that there were ample concealed nooks and crannies where the children had hidden from their parents when they were growing up. The whole place gave you the feel of still being in the forest that surrounded the valley it was nestled in, albeit a very luxurious forest. At last we came to rest outside a set of tall oak double doors. I could hear low voices conversing within. Our armed escort pushed the doors open for us and I drew up short, awed by the space I was standing in. The room we were in appeared to be a council chamber, harboring only one large round table surrounded by several elegantly carved high backed chairs. The ceiling was as high as a ball room, and only window was a massive skylight that covered almost the entire ceiling, set high above us, streaming in the early morning light. But the most extraordinary feature was were the four gigantic trees that seemed to be holding up the ceiling as pillars would a parthenon. They were the largest trees I had ever seen, easily over twenty feet tall with trunks as thick around as an elephant’s torso, and were adorned with the jewel toned leaves of autumn.

I noticed Rhysand first, his eyes lighting up as I entered following Katya. She hustled over to him and whispered something in his ear, and at a nod from him she turned around and scurried out of the room with a murmered, “My Lady,” as she passed by me. There were five other people at the table, four of whom I didn’t know. I had never met the High Lord of Autumn before, but I recognized him instantly. Recognized his fiery hair, the haughty, arrogant way he carried himself, recognized the cruelty that danced in his eyes. Beside him sat a man with long brown hair and deep golden skin that practically radiated sunlight, wearing a single long white piece of fabric, almost resembling a dress, that was fastened over one shoulder with a gold broach. He was wearing a cuff on his bicep fashioned to look like a curling snake. I recognized him from Rhysand’s description of Helion Spell Cleaver, High Lord of the Day Court. On Beron’s other side a man with light brown skin perched on the edge of his chair, his back ramrod straight. He had deep chocolate eyes and close cropped hair, and was wearing a loose fitting tunic and pants — casual but elegant. This must be Thesan, High Lord of Dawn. The man sitting next to him, in contrast to Thesan’s sun kissed skin, looked practically colorless. His skin and hair were pale as snow, his eyes chips of ice and clearest blue, almost devoid of color. He wore a fur trimmed vest over a thick dark blue tunic, the deep color making his skin look even paler. He was unmistakably the High Lord of the Winter Court. Kallias, if I remembered correctly. The last chair was occupied by someone who I knew immediately, with his dark brown skin and sea blue eyes. Tarquin. 

Unsurprisingly, it was Beron who broke the uneasy silence.

“Rhysand, I appreciate your penchant for theatrics, but this hardly seems the time to introduce us to your mate,” Beron drawled. “Especially in her… current condition,” he added, looking me up and down in a way that made my skin crawl. Rhysand just looked to me, not stepping in to defend me unless I asked him to.

“I may be his mate,” I replied softly, my words razor edged, “but I am also High Lady of the Night Court, and I believe that reserves me a place at this table.” I heard a sharp intake of breath and a few muttered curses from the other High Lords, but Beron said nothing, either not surprised or not willing to let his shock show. He held my gaze, eyes promising me things he didn’t have to speak for me to understand. I repressed a shudder. _This_ was the man Lucien had called father, had been forced to submit to all his life? It was hard to imagine growing up under his watchful eyes. I doubt they missed a thing, or that he was quick to forget.

I brushed his gaze aside, coming to sit in the last empty chair beside my mate. He brushed his hand against mine under the table reassuringly. _Nicely done,_ he said inside my head. _You certainly know how to make an entrance._

_I had lessons from the best_ , was all I said. Then, _When did the other High Lords arrive?_

_Earlier this morning. They all winnowed in so we could meet as a unified body before splitting up again,_ Rhysand said back down the bond.

“As I was saying, if Hybern continues to push us northward —,” Rhysand began, directed this time at the other High Lords, but was cut short by Beron speaking over him.

“Do you think,” Beron cut in, “that you can show up with your mate in tow, pregnant, no less, and expect us to just accept the fact that you have named her High Lady? Our system was created with the idea of balance between the courts — allowing the Night Court to have two rulers seems rather unfair, don’t you think?”

“I think,” Rhysand said, deadly soft, “that how I choose to rule over my territory falls to my discretion, meaning you don’t get to have an opinion.” His eyes were cold and hard, assertive. “Mention our child one more time, Beron, and you may find you no longer have a tongue to speak with,” he continued with quiet malice, his voice laced with predatory intent. But Beron just leaned back in his chair, cool and composed, and chuckled softly. I could feel Rhys tensing beside me, and I brushed my knee against his, reminding him who he was, why we were here, what was at stake.

“Back to the point of this discussion,” Helion cut in before it could go any further. His voice was deep and rich, thick like honey. “From the intel we have gathered,” he said with a pointed look at Rhysand, “Hybern is trying to push us northward, staking claim to the territory he can drive us out of as he goes. Once he gains enough ground, we believe he will try to take down the wall using the cauldron. If we have any chance of breaking his progression, we need to spread our forces out along the southern border of the Winter, Autumn, and Summer Courts. That way we can all be located more centrally, and in a strategic position.”

“Who’s to say that information we’ve received is reliable?” Beron was quick to throw suspicion in our direction. I was surprised to find it was Tarquin who spoke next. 

“Beron, if you are here to stomp your feet and point your fingers like a petulant child, than including you in this meeting was a waste of time. The rest of us are trying to minimize the damage of the gods-damned _war_ we have found ourselves in the middle of. I suggest you participate productively in this discussion, or we can find somewhere else to meet.” His words were cold and hard, his discontent reflected in his drawn gaze and the hard tilt of his jaw. But Beron just raised his hands in a gesture of accedence. He looked as if he were taking this threat as far from seriously as possible, even though it was his own territory that had just been invaded and very nearly conquered only the day before. His nonchalance was as off-putting as it was aggravating.

Brushing aside Beron’s outburst, Rhysand said, “We have already begun morning our troops to the Winter Court border. We have enough to split into two encampments, located close enough together as to be easily accessible but far enough apart as to defend more ground. Kallias,” Rhys said, turning his attention to the white haired male. “Seeing as your major cities are located mostly to the east, I assume you will want your troops stationed farther east.” Kallias nodded his head once. “In that case, we’ll push west. Until we locate the rest of Hybern’s armies, we need to stay in easily defensible positions. The more centrally located, the better.” Everyone but Beron seemed inclined to agree with that, several of them nodding their heads.

“Beron, Tarquin,” Helion began, “I assume you will want to be defending your own territories.” Two slight nods. “Good. In that case, most of my armies are prepared to relocate to the Summer Court border — I can winnow them in this afternoon.”

Though he seemed somewhat disgruntled about it, Thesan said, “I am prepared to donate a sizable portion of my troops to help maintain the Autumn Court border. Some will need to remain where they are, but the rest can be allocated to helping Kallias and Rhysand on the Winter Court border.” Everything seemed to be nearly settled, but I realized they had overlooked something vital.

“What about Tamlin?” I cut in, nearly choking on his name. I felt Rhys stiffen beside me at mention of him.

“What about him,” Beron replied shortly. “He betrayed us. Or don’t you remember? I seem to recall you being _intimately_ versed in this subject,” he said with a sneer.

“You seem to forget that even though Tamlin sided with our enemy, he is still a High Lord. That means he knows more about us than anyone else in Hybern’s army — he knows our strengths, our weaknesses, may very well even be able to anticipate our movements. Something needs to be done to eliminate the threat. At the very least, we need to try and cloak our movements.” Everyone seemed to have forgotten I was there until I spoke, as evidenced by the looks of thinly veiled surprise on most of their faces.

“Feyre’s right,” Tarquin said, and I was shocked that he had spoken in my defense. “I’ve shared a border with Tamlin all my life — he knows far more about the specifics of my Court than I would like for my enemy to have knowledge of. We need to find a way to remove him from the game board. Either we commandeer him or we dispatch him all together — either way, we cannot allow him to remain a player in this war. He’s too much of a wild card.

Rhys jumped in, “We glamour our armies when we move — as a precaution. If anyone in the enemy camp gets wind of our movements, it could spell doom for us all. As for Tamlin, we need to assemble a reconnaissance team to locate Hybern’s troops anyways. I say they make it part of their mission to return here with the High Lord of Spring.” He was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Dead or alive.”

Helion didn’t seem put off by Rhysand’s words at all as said, “If we can take him alive, we could gain valuable information about the enemy. If not, we have removed one more threat from our periphery.” Everyone at the table seemed inclined to agree. Several of them nodded their heads, and I could have sworn I saw Helion wink at me.

“If that’s settled then, I believe this meeting is at a close. Feel free to see yourselves out at your leisure,” Beron said, his words slithering through the air like a snake. The other Lords seemed hardly rattled by his less than polite dismissal, all of them pushing back their chairs, most making for the door.

“I’m going to chat with Helion for a moment. Would you like to come?” Rhysand murmured by my ear. I shook my head, opting to make for the door instead. I was half way there when Beron intercepted me, catching my arm gently but with enough force to make me halt. He took my hand in his and I fought the urge to pull my hand back, as if his touch burned.

“Lovely to finally make your acquaintance,” he said, his tone anything but kind.

“You as well. Thank you for hosting our meeting,” I replied, exchanging the obligatory formalities. He leaned in as if to kiss my cheek. I noticed that all the other Lords had filed out, leaving just me, Rhys, Helion, and Beron alone in the massive room.

Beron brushed his lips against my ear and whispered, “That child of yours will never survive this war.” I could feel his hot breath caressing my cheek and tried not to flinch. “Such a powerful union — it would result in offspring that some may consider… threatening.” 

Rhysand moved across the room so fast I didn’t even see him until he had Beron pinned up against the wall, one hand around his throat. “Say that one more time,” he threatened, his voice a quiet but sharp-edged knife. I could see that he was using his power to keep Beron from moving. “I dare you.”

Beron tried and failed to extricate himself, looking more ruffled than I had ever seen him. He opened his mouth as if to speak but no sound came out, and I realized with a start that Rhysand had taken away his ability to do so.

“You ever threaten anyone in my court again and you won’t walk away with your life.” Rhys moved away, his power holding Beron there for a moment longer before he released him, the High Lord of Autumn sputtering and coughing as slumped against the wall, fighting for breath. Rhysand paid him no heed, striding across the room and gently folding my hand into his. I silently followed as he lead me out the doors, through the palace, and finally from the estate and back into the valley. We passed into a small grove of trees on the edge of the forest that shaded us from view and slowed our pace, finally coming to halt in a small clearing surrounded by dense foliage that nearly blocked out the sunlight. I could feel the barely contained rage rippling off Rhys in waves, and eventually regained my composure enough to lay a hand on his shoulder and ask if he was all right.

“Am _I_ all right? What about you?” His voice was tinged with an edge of hysteria. “I heard what he said to you, how he threatened…” He trailed off, his eyes drifting to my stomach before shuttering. He rubbed his hands across his face in a haggard movement, and I realized how tired he was, how dark the circles under his eyes were. “I’m sorry. I am so sorry. He shouldn’t have —,” he began, but I cut him off before he could finish.

“Rhys, this isn’t your fault. I know what being your mate entails — the danger that puts me in. Don’t you think for a second that that changes anything. It doesn’t matter — nothing else matters but you." I pulled his face down, cupping his cheeks with my hands. “I love you,” I said quietly. “I love you.” He didn’t say anything for a long moment, resting his forehead against mine, eyes closed. Then suddenly he leaned forward and claimed my mouth with his own.

The kiss wasn’t gentle or delicate, it was hard, raw and passionate, aching with desire and lust. He curled his hands around my back and I arched into the touch, deepening the kiss, wrapping my hands around his neck and pulling him closer to me. Before I knew what was happening he had turned us around and my back was pressing into the hard wood of a tree, my tunic discarded on the mossy ground beside us. His followed, coming to rest next to mine, followed my his pants and then mine, my undergarments and then his undershorts. I felt as much as heard his shield lock into place around us, hiding us from view and protecting us from predators. His wings tore from his back, hanging draped between his shoulders, and as I brushed a hand across their silky smooth membrane Rhys shuddered.

He tore his mouth from mine long enough to whisper into my ear, “I love you too. I love you too.” And then his mouth was on mine again, and I couldn’t think beyond the feeling of his velvety smooth skin brushing against mine and the hard wood of the tree pressing against my back, couldn’t think beyond the aching pool of desire pounding in the pit of my stomach as I wrapped my legs around his hips and he circled his arms around my back, pushing me against the tree for support. A moan escape my lips, and it undid his self control.

Even as I forgot my own name, even as I shattered and reformed and shattered all over again, I knew Rhys was achingly aware of the child nestled safely between us, was careful and loving and delicate so as not to harm her. And the gentleness he showed, the fierce protectiveness with which he had defended her, nearly shattered my heart too. How many times had the things he loved been taken from him? How many times had his own heart been ripped from his chest and torn to shreds?

I vowed to myself, then and there, that I would do everything in my power to keep that from ever happening again.


End file.
